Fairy Tales Aren't Just For Kids
by AllThingsAnime123
Summary: A series of mysterious disappearances lead the Winchesters falling right into the pages of two of the classic fairy tales. Now Dean and Sam will rewrite their own separate stories, battle a monster or two along the way, learn some valuable lessons and finally stumble across their very own happily ever after. After all, that's what happens in those kinds of stories.. Right?
1. Chapter 1

**Dislclaimer:** I don't own anything to do with Supernatural or the fairy tales used later on. Hell, I'm a student; I don't own anything. T^T

**Author's Note:** This one kind of has a 'This Cupid Isn't Stupid' feel to it, in that I'm hoping it's a mystery as to who's behind the whole thing xD But hey, you guys are smart, so I bet you'll be guessing it from this chapter alone xP Once again, just a warning that updates will probably be scattered with no particular order to them, thanks to my University course. Hopefully I have more free time over Christmas, but that's debatable. Anyway, on with this new story! I hope you guys like it! :)

* * *

Gabriel knew it wasn't going to be pretty. He knew that the reaction would be loud, explosive and quite possibly violent. But that was what he _thrived_ on. Besides, he reasoned, the Winchesters knew him. It wasn't like he was some weird stranger bunking with them for a few days before he moved on. They'd been through a lot together and granted, most of their encounters had ended with one or both of them wanting to skin him alive, but hey, all's fair in love and war. Point being, they knew what he was like, and how it wasn't in their best interests to mess with him.

And yet, Dean still thought it a perfectly reasonable idea to use his boxes of chocolates that he'd had to go all the way to Italy for as target practice with his shotgun. And while it was true that he could just snap himself back over there, it was the principle of the matter that didn't sit well with Gabriel. Prank wars had certain lines that weren't to be crossed, and Dean hadn't just stepped over it; he'd taken a flying jump.

So, in Gabriel's opinion, this was justice.

Sam was going to get caught in the crossfire, yes, but Gabriel had dropped enough hints the previous night that the moose should get his own room. It wasn't _his_ fault Sam hadn't listened. But no, the hunter had just assumed Gabriel was trying to make a pass at him. Gabriel rolled his eyes as he remembered. Sure, Sam was very easy on the eyes but it wasn't like he was being _serious_ when he made those sorts of comments. It was _Castiel_ that was hopelessly in love with a Winchester, not him. So maybe he subtly tried to warn the guy about his planned retaliation on Dean. It didn't mean anything; it _didn't_.

The younger Winchester in question stirred slightly in his sleep, knocking Gabriel from his own mental ramblings. He felt an evil grin twisting his mouth as his eyes strayed to the feet of Dean's bed. Placed around it in strategic points were several rolls of firecrackers, just waiting to be lit. After checking everything was ready for show time, Gabriel sunk into the chair he'd conjured up before getting to work, set a bowl of popcorn on his lap and snapped his fingers.

The reactions weren't disappointing.

The instant the first bang went off, both Sam and Dean sat bolt upright in their beds, yelling in surprise. Then as Dean's bed began to shake from the pressure caused by the variously timed explosions, Sam rolled off his bed and scrambled backwards to the wall, swearing. Dean remained where he was, shouting even louder than Sam, turning left and right to see what was causing such mayhem. And yet above the din, Gabriel's barking laughter could still be heard.

"And now we're officially even, Deano!" He cried as the bangs finally died away into nothingness and with a snap of his fingers, cleared the smoke before any alarms could detect it. "Good thing I thought of sound-proofing this room, or you'd have a _lot_ of pissed off neighbours right now."

"Gabriel, what -" Sam began weakly, but whatever he'd said was drowned out by Dean.

"_What the fuck is wrong with you_?!" He roared as he batted frantically at his sheets, which had caught fire, with his pillow. "_What the actual fuck is fucking wrong with you_?!"

Gabriel shrugged. "Like I said, call us even." And then with a mock salute in Dean's direction, he vanished with a flap of wings.

"Remind me of something, Sam." Dean spat acidly as he ripped the charred edges of his sheer away and lobbed them into the bin. "Why do we let that douchebag tag along with us?"

"Because he healed Cas and saved Bobby." Sam replied without missing a beat, quick as ever to leap to the archangel's defence, getting to his feet and scooping up some of the remnants of the firecrackers.

Dean groaned, throwing his pillow back into place at the head of the bed before sliding to the floor and helping his brother. "Why do you _always_ say that?"

"Because you always ask me what he's done for us. And that's what he's done." Sam replied with a shrug.

It turned out that Gabriel had been resurrected at the same time as Castiel after the showdown in Stull Cemetery with Michael and Lucifer. For a long time afterwards he'd flitted from place to place, never staying still for too long in an attempt to stay off any sort of Heavenly radar. But he always kept one eye on the Winchesters, just in case they ever needed him. When asked, he replied that even he didn't know why. He supposed it was his old loyalties for mankind resurfacing, and as Sam and Dean seemed to be saving the world every other week from another of Gabriel's dick brothers, it was in all of their best interests that he stuck around this time. Not that Sam was complaining.

The younger Winchester was very well aware of the fact he'd had a _thing_ for the pocketsize archangel ever since the Elysian. Typical of their luck; not knowing what they had until it was gone. And when Dean discovered it, Sam was subject to a whole wave of questions, most of which went along the lines of '_Why him?_' And honestly, Sam didn't know the answer to that. Gabriel was cocky, annoying, and rude, wouldn't know subtlety if it kicked him up the ass, spoke his mind with brutal honesty, and had a sick, twisted sense of humour and a history of murder a mile long. And yet, there was something about him that Sam just _loved_. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, just that it was there.

Gabriel had crash-landed back into their lives almost immediately after the whole Emmanuel incident. They'd been in the process of driving away from the hospital, leaving Castiel behind, and Sam could see Dean teetering on the edge of spinning the car around to go back. Just as he'd opened his mouth to suggest just that, there came the sound of flapping wings from the backseat and Dean very nearly swerved right off the road. Their shock upon turning around and seeing a supposedly dead archangel sat stiffly, arms folded over his chest and scowl firmly in place, was monumental. Gabriel then ordered them to turn the car around, _pronto_, and take him to see his younger brother.

Dean complied without question, and Gabriel told them to wait outside while he zapped himself in. To this day, neither Winchester knew what the archangel had done to rid Castiel of Lucifer only that it had worked like a charm. When both angels suddenly reappeared in the back of the car, Castiel wasn't jumping at every shadow and Gabriel looked far more relaxed; enough to snap a lollipop out of nowhere and get to work on it. Sam saw Dean's expression of blissful relief before he could hide it behind his usual mask of indifference; he just chose not to call him up on it.

After that, it was difficult to decide what to do with Gabriel. Castiel, obviously, wanted to return to Heaven and attempt to restore some semblance of order. The hunters were still barrelling towards war with the Leviathans, so they were pretty preoccupied. But now that Sam knew of Gabriel's return, he was reluctant to let the archangel go. He knew it was petty and childish, but after having experienced the horrible loss that came with Gabriel's death, to now see that he was perfectly healthy again made Sam want to prevent him from ever dying again. He just didn't want to experience that pain yet again.

In the end, it was Castiel that provided an answer. Reasoning that with Raphael dead and Michael and Lucifer still firmly locked away in the Cage, Heaven needed a suitable leader. And the next best thing they had available from God Himself were His archangels; or more specifically, Gabriel. At first, Gabriel was hesitant. Yes, he wanted more than anything to finally return home, but he couldn't help but feel the smallest prickles of uncertainty. But if Castiel had stepped up to accept the challenge, and against Raphael no less, then Gabriel kind of had a duty to do the same. He was older, after all; it was only right.

Just when the Winchesters believed it was the last of their weird run-ins with Gabriel, he once again proved them wrong when one day they returned to their motel to find a very confused, very _real_ Bobby Singer.

After the usual methods of testing the man and the obligatory Winchester hugs that followed a deceased friend or relative being resurrected, Sam made the call to Gabriel to ask just what the _fuck_ was going on. And to their shock and horror, he showed up with Crowley. Dean and Bobby immediately went for their guns while Sam pulled out Ruby's knife, but they were all stopped by the archangel. He explained that Crowley had helped to bring their adoptive father figure back, and as they'd already proven, there was nothing out of the ordinary with him, and he was definitely in possession of his soul. When questioned about his motives, Crowley simply shrugged and replied that life had been boring without Bobby in the picture, before vanishing.

Ever since, they'd had a strained, almost-friendship with the King of Hell, although all three hunters were still exceptionally sceptical. Castiel, it seemed, was also in agreement with them. Although that could have been due to his past dealings with the demon, and wanting to make up for it. Whenever Crowley's name cropped up in conversation and Castiel was within earshot, he would visibly flinch and his eyes would flick to Dean before settling on the floor.

"I'm just saying, Sam, there are better ways of waking us up." Dean grumbled, tipping his armful of burst firecrackers into the bin on top of the ruined sheet. "I know you think he's a riot and all, but -"

"Just because I like him doesn't mean I think everything he does is hilarious." Sam snapped, irritated. "Believe it or not, a wake-up call with _explosions_ isn't exactly my idea of fun."

Dean shook his head. "Our lives are weird, man."

"You mean not everyone gets woken up at seven in the morning by a crazy, bored archangel?" Sam asked, feigning surprise.

"Shockingly, no. I mean, who would want to?"

Sam debated stating that he would, just with fewer explosives, but he doubted Dean would want to hear it. So instead, he just shrugged and made for the bathroom. Now that they were up, might as well get dressed. They were completely unaware of the man standing in the hall just outside their motel room, watching the door and grinning as he shook his head.

"You certainly have an incapability to hide your antics, brother." He spoke in a soft, amused tone. "But it makes you very easy to follow. And now I have everything I need." Then, with the faintest sound of flapping wings, he vanished.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know I kind of re-wrote the last parts of season 7, but hey, that shit was traumatic D: This fic takes place in the lead-up to the faceoff with Dick Roman and the Leviathans, after the Bourne Again Identity but before the finale. This is kinda the only chapter that makes reference to the happenings of season 7; everything past this is entirely made up xP


	2. Chapter 2

An hour after Gabriel's explosive wake-up call, Sam and Dean were sitting in a nearby diner, picking at their food. Well, Sam was. Dean was stabbing at his with his cutlery as if it had personally offended him, face like thunder. Even the waitress, who had given them both approving looks when they'd first walked in, was now giving them and their table a wide berth. Sam had given up trying to tell his brother to calm down and let Gabriel's latest antics go; it was like adding gasoline to a fire. Dean would just glower at him until he looked away, lips curled into the deepest scowl Sam had ever seen.

Dean would get like this every time Gabriel pranked him, not loosening up until he had an equally nasty idea to get revenge. Sam and Castiel had long since learned to take several steps back from the war raging between their brothers, knowing that it would only escalate dramatically should they get involved. Dean and Gabriel, it seemed, couldn't force themselves to get along unless they were arguing about something or planning ways to humiliate the other. But hey, that was better than Dean trying to Holy Fire the archangel into oblivion, or Gabriel making the hunter explode in a gory shower.

Thankfully Sam's ringtone cut through the horribly tense silence between them. Dropping his fork and trying not to look too pleased at the excuse to escape, he slid out of his seat and left the diner, lifting his phone from his pocket as he did so.

"Hello?" He answered once he was a safe distance from anybody within earshot.

"Hey, Sam. Listen, where are you boys now?" It was Bobby, and Sam still wasn't completely over the rush of relief that swept over him whenever he heard the older hunter's voice.

"Springfield, Illinois. Why?"

Bobby paused for a moment before saying, "Huh."

"What? What is it?"

"Weird. I've just dug up a possible case right on top of you."

Sam also paused, a frown beginning to slide onto his face. "You're telling me we chose to stop in a place that just happens to have a case?"

"Seems so."

Shaking his head and trying not to look too deeply into just how _coincidental_ that happened to be, he spoke. "Okay, hit me with it."

* * *

Dean watched Sam's movements from the moment he stepped out of the diner from the window, fully abandoning his half-eaten breakfast. The call didn't last that long; within a few minutes Sam was snapping his phone shut but he didn't walk back to the diner. Instead, he caught Dean's eye from outside and inclined his head for his brother to join him. Only too happy to leave, Dean slid out of the booth and walked out after dropping a couple of notes onto their table. Sam burst into speech the moment Dean reached him.

"So get this, Dean," He began, and Dean's insides immediately lurched. He'd learned from experience that any sentence that began with or contained those words ended up in _days_ of tedious research. "Bobby's found a hunt for us. Right here."

"Right here?" Dean echoed Sam's words. "As in right in this city?"

Sam nodded. "Yup."

Dean raised a sceptical eyebrow. "And that doesn't strike you as slightly odd?"

"Of course it does." Sam snapped, complete with bitchface. "But while we're here, we might as well check it out."

Barely suppressing a sigh, Dean shrugged. "Alright, what have we got?"

"Looks like a perfectly normal vengeful spirit." Sam replied. "Bobby said he's found all these stories over the past week or so about people going missing after they visit this place that's supposed to be haunted. Police haven't found a single body, and the building's totally clean."

"Any weird deaths happen anywhere near it?"

"Not that we know of. But that's something we'll have to look into."

Dean knew it was coming; it was only a matter of time. With the threat of research looming over his head on top of the already crap-tastic morning he'd had, he could already feel the beginning pangs of a headache.

"Alright. But let's check the place out first. See if we can find anything the authorities missed." Dean said as they reached the Impala. "Where's this newest ghost hotspot, then?"

"A house that's been empty for years." Sam replied. "Bobby's sending me the address."

They drove back to the motel first to change into their suits, and then set off for the house, following Bobby's instruction. And if Sam and Dean were already having bad feelings about this particular case, those doubts were cemented when they rolled into the right street. It wasn't that the house was immediately recognisable as the one they were searching for. What with its placing at the very end of the cul-de-sac with its boarded up windows and doors, tiles missing from the roof and overgrown, jungle-like front garden, it looked like something plucked straight out of a stereotypical horror novel. All it was missing was the fork of lighting shooting across the sky above it. But it wasn't just the cliché appearance of the house that set off alarm bells in both hunters.

It was that the house in question wasn't even that long a drive away from the motel they'd chosen to crash at; barely ten minutes. After all, out of all the states, and all the cities and towns within those states, and all the motels in _those_, the chances of stumbling across this hunt so locally were infinitesimally small. Dean was frankly surprised the words '_It's a trap!_' weren't flashing above the house in bright, feet high, neon-lit letters.

"I'm telling you Sam, something's wrong here." Dean muttered as they climbed out of the car and set off along the street.

Sam nodded in agreement, but didn't verbally reply. In silence they hurried along the street, making note of the other houses on both sides. Surely one of their residents should have noticed _something_ if nine people had gone missing in this one spot. They passed underneath the police tape sectioning the house off without hesitation, FBI badges ready in their pockets should anyone question them. But there was nobody around to do so; the place was eerily silent.

The door wasn't locked, so they made their way inside with ease and found themselves in a large square room, the smell of rotting wood thick in the air. It was devoid of all furniture and pitch black; the boards across the windows shut out all light. Sam reached into the duffel bag he'd brought with him and pulled out two torches. Throwing one to Dean, they flicked them on and glanced around. The inside of the building was as silent as the street outside; not even the wind whistled through the empty house.

And yet, there was a strange _feel_ to the house. Everything had a tinny sort of scent to it, much like standing outside in the wake of a nasty thunderstorm. Almost as if there were lightning in the very air. It was strangely familiar. On top of that, Sam didn't know if it was his imagination or not and he sincerely doubted it was, but the hairs rising on the back of his neck told him they were being watched by something. And seeing Dean's eyes flicking in all directions, Sam knew his older brother was experiencing the same sensation, too.

Pulling out his handmade EMF meter, Dean began to make his way around the house, scanning everything with Sam right behind him. The dial didn't even twitch though, and the humming buzz never once peaked.

"Doesn't mean there's not anything hanging around here." He reminded Sam as he replaced the device in his pocket. "After all, it's at night when things like to come out."

"Yeah. Let's get out of here then, and we'll come back tonight."

As Dean had no other suggestions, they left the house but remained in the street, watching for any sign of movement. It was very boring, and even Dean was contemplating calling on Gabriel just to liven things up. Finally, _thankfully_, Sam decided they'd waited long enough and led the way back into the house. They expected this time to be a very different story but the thing was it _wasn't_. Everything was exactly as it had been the last time they'd entered the building, right down to the zilch on the EMF meter and the strangely familiar electrical buzz in the air.

"What the _hell_?" Dean muttered as they drove back to the motel. "So it's haunted, but there's no trace of spirit activity? People are vanishing, but there's nothing in there to suggest something's killing them?"

Sam shook his head, equally baffled. "It can't even be a Tulpa this time. No symbols, no geeky website, nothing."

"What the _hell_." Dean repeated, and Sam couldn't agree with him more.

* * *

The next day saw Dean staying at the motel, flicking through their father's old journal, mentally crossing off anything that he doubted could be lurking in the house. Although they had found no evidence of spirit activity, Sam had insisted on looking into the house's past, but found no reports of grisly deaths occurring anywhere nearby even as far back as fifty years ago. He then found the same newspaper articles Bobby had done, and that was how he discovered Matthew Adams. The teenager had been interviewed by the police regarding the disappearance of his twin brother, Andy, who had been the first person to vanish. Matt had stuck firmly to his story that he'd waited outside as his brother went in, only he didn't come back out and there were no noises to suggest he'd broken out the back. He'd just gone.

What caught Sam's attention most about the article was that Matt had apparently gone in first, alone, only to return unscathed. And then, not even two minutes later, his brother had been taken by something inside without a sound. It was a no-brainer what Sam's next course of action had to be. So he donned his suit again, and set out to find Matt Adams. It didn't take him long; the first woman he asked in the street said that ever since his brother's disappearance, all the teenager would do was sit on the same bench in the park, waiting for news.

It didn't take Sam long to be pointed in the right direction. It seemed that everyone he encountered had heard of Matt and his tragic story, and were only too happy to help in whatever way they could. And when Sam first spotted him, he couldn't help but feel a clench of sympathy. He was sat ramrod straight on the bench, knees against his chest and arms curled almost protectively around them. His eyes stared straight ahead, looking but not seeing. Sam knew how it must have felt; some of the worst times of his life happened when he and Dean had been separated.

So he approached cautiously and tentatively, drawing his badge out ready for when he reached the bench. When he came to a halt, the teenager's eyes took a long time to meet his gaze and when they did, it was only for a second before they were on the floor again. Regardless, Sam flashed him the badge.

"Hey, you're Matt Adams, right? I'm with the FBI, we're looking into your brother's disappearance."

"D'you have any new leads?" The boy's voice was low and croaky, as if he hadn't spoken for a while. And yet, despite how dejected and low it sounded, Sam could still detect the faintest glimmer of hope woven in to his tone.

"That's what I'm here to find out. So tell me what happened, Matt." He said in his gentlest, most understanding tone, taking a seat next to him.

"What's the point?" The teenager replied, hunkering down further in the hard wooden bench and deliberately avoiding looking at Sam, hope vanishing from his voice in a heartbeat. "You wouldn't believe me."

Sam smiled, having heard this too often from witnesses. "Try me. I'll listen to whatever it is you have to say."

The boy sat in stony silence for a little while longer, before he unglued his lips. "It was our birthday. Andy got bored, and dared me to go into the house. I never believed the stories about it, so I agreed."

"And did you see anything in there?" Sam asked.

Matt shook his head. "Nothing."

"And you didn't hear any noises?"

"_No_." He said firmly.

"And you didn't feel anything when -"

"Look, there was nothing in there, okay?!" The boy snapped furiously.

"Alright, alright." Sam said soothingly, holding up his hands in a pacifying manner. "Tell me what happened next."

Matt sighed and fell back against the bench, still not looking at Sam. "I came out after the ten minutes Andy dared me to stay inside, and I guess he was angry that I wasn't pissing myself. I just told him what I've been saying all along; that there's nothing in there." He paused to shrug. "Guess I was wrong."

"Why?"

"Andy went in there, and like I told the police, he just _vanished_." The boy's voice had begun to shake now. "At first, I thought he was just playing a joke on me, trying to freak me out, hiding behind a wall and waiting for me to come in looking for him so he could jump out and scare me. So I gave it a few minutes, waiting for him to get bored, but he didn't come out. So I went in, and he wasn't there anymore."

"And you didn't hear anything to suggest he'd broken out the back?"

"Nothing. Door was still firmly panelled shut, and none of the windows were broken."

"And did you see anything when you went in the second time? Did anything feel any different?"

Matt paused, frowning, and Sam kept silent as he allowed the boy to think. After a few moments, he slowly shook his head. "It looked a little brighter than when I went in the first time? But.."

He trailed off but Sam latched onto the word like a lifeline. "But what, Matt?"

The teenager shook his head again and shrugged. "I dunno, the air felt heavier. Like it does before a storm, you know? But as I was searching the house, it got lighter again." He paused, biting his lip, before finally meeting Sam's gaze. "You're gonna find my brother, right?"

"We're gonna do our best, Matt." Sam promised with a reassuring smile.

* * *

"Wait, run that by me one more time."

Sam sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I said I think this thing, whatever it is, is choosing its targets. I mean, look." He gestured to the table before them. Scattered across it were the missing person's reports of the nine people that had entered the house and vanished into thin air. Each one portrayed someone of different race, age and background. "No connections between them, and then there's the kid I spoke to today."

"Right, yeah," Dean pushed a hand through his short hair. "He went in and felt nothing, his brother goes in and poof, he's gone."

Sam nodded. "The only option I can think of is that something's choosing them. But why them and what for, I got nothing."

"Okay, you relay that to Bobby, and thank him for such a friggin' _wonderful_ case while you're at it." Dean pushed himself away from the table, deliberately ignoring Sam's eye roll as he pulled out his phone. Facing the ceiling, Dean crossed his arms and said, "I pray to Castiel and Gabriel to get their feathery asses down here. We need their help."

In the time it had taken Dean to blink, there came the sound of flapping wings behind him and Castiel's deep, gravelly tone. "Hello, Dean."

The hunter turned and frowned when he saw that Castiel was alone. "Where's Gabriel?"

Castiel's mouth curled into a disapproving frown, and his eyes flicked skywards. "He wished me to inform you that he refuses to answer your call."

"Oh, for the love of -" Dean began, but cut himself short when he saw the warning glint in Castiel's blue eyes. "Gabriel! You tried to kill me yesterday! The least you can do is answer me, you son of a bitch!"

"Dean, I doubt that will provide him with the proper incentive to obey your wishes."

"I tried asking him nicely and he didn't want to know." Dean replied defensively.

"_Gabriel_!" Dean heard Sam shout from the kitchenette. "_Quit being a childish dick and get down here_! Sorry Bobby, no, not you -"

"Jeez, you guys are just the epitome of polite summons, aren't you?" The archangel's voice rang out a millisecond later. Dean whirled around; Gabriel was sprawled out on Sam's bed, hands behind his head. "I mean, would it kill you to say 'please'?"

"They required our assistance, Gabriel." Castiel said sharply before Dean could open his mouth.

"Oh, spare me." Gabriel muttered darkly, sitting up. "_Anything_ but a speech from the leader of the Winchester Fan Club."

Castiel's face morphed into one of Sam's bitchfaces, before he turned away and observed the table's contents instead. "These are the missing people?" He asked, not taking his eyes off a photograph of a father and his young son.

"Yeah. All of them have vanished in the same house over the past week. No connections between the victims, nothing in the house, no damn clues _anywhere_. Oh, and nothing weird reported about the house until this rumour started up out of nowhere."

"Rumour?" Gabriel asked from his spot on Sam's bed, now chewing a piece of gum.

"It's been around for years." Sam had finally ended his call with Bobby and was walking back in. "Apparently kids have been going in all the time, trying to see the ghost. It's only been in this past week that -"

He suddenly trailed off as he reached the table, eyebrows furrowing before glancing up and staring at Castiel and Gabriel in turn. Dean and Castiel both exchanged a puzzled look, and even Gabriel slid off the bed to fix Sam with a confused stare. Then, just as Dean opened his mouth to ask why Sam was behaving so weirdly, his brother spoke again. But rather than facing his brother, he looked from one angel to the other, expression deadly serious.

"Guys, have you noticed any other angels suddenly taking a weird interest in humans?"

Castiel tilted his head while Gabriel huffed out a surprised laugh. "You're joking, right? You expect us to keep tabs on all our brothers and sisters? Kiddo, I know we're amazing and everything, but come on, be reasonable."

"Gabriel is correct." Castiel agreed. "It is difficult to watch the whole of Heaven's movements."

"Understatement." Gabriel added, blowing a bubble.

"Why do you ask, Sam?"

"Dean, can't you feel that?" Sam asked, ignoring Castiel's question.

"Feel what?" Dean questioned, looking at him as if he'd grown a second head.

Sam waved a hand through the air around them. "_That_. Doesn't it remind you of anything?"

Dean frowned, feeling all three pairs of eyes on him. He turned back to meet Castiel's eye, and that was when he got was Sam was getting at. The air surrounding the angel standing just beside him was filled with a humming power, so thick he could almost reach out and touch it. It gave the air an almost tinny quality, like it was full of invisible electricity. Just like at the house.

"It's an angel." Dean said, turning to face Sam who nodded grimly.

"And it only takes certain people. Matt told me he didn't feel a thing when he went into that house for the first time, but when he went back after Andy vanished, he said he could feel electricity in the air. For some reason, it's choosing people."

"Wait, you think an angel's been selecting and kidnapping humans?" Gabriel asked, finally standing at the table with the others, looking amazed. He didn't wait for an answer, just saw the anxious look in Sam's eyes, and nodded, suddenly serious. "Cassie, we're going. We'll let you know if we find anything." And then, with two separate flaps of their wings, both angels vanished.

At the table, Dean dragged a hand down his face. "Great. Just when I thought our days of fighting angels were over with."

Sam sighed and collapsed into a chair. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss hunting Wendigos. Life was so much simpler back then."

In the same instant Dean murmured his agreement with Sam's statement, something happened in the abandoned house.

Where before there was nothing but darkness in the front room, suddenly it was swimming with light. It had erupted from nowhere, blinding in its brightness, spreading from the centre of the empty room and scattering to every corner. It ate up every shadow, illuminating the tiniest spaces. And yet, none of the bizarre light escaped into the outside world; the boarded windows kept it all firmly enclosed.

But as soon as it appeared it was gone, leaving in its wake a teenage girl. She was kneeling in the centre of the room, almost as if the light had carried her there and then dropped her. She remained in that position for a long time; focusing only on regulating her breathing. Only when the air around her evened out and lost the crackle of power did she finally sit up, a beaming smile etched onto her face.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam jerked awake the next morning when something hit him hard in the centre of his forehead.

Hunter senses kicking in at once, he sat bolt upright in a flash, hand already flying to Ruby's knife which was hidden beneath his pillow. His movement dislodged the offending object though, and when he saw it he felt an irritated sigh escape his lips as it rolled into his lap, held aloft by the blankets bunching around his legs. It was a small scrap of paper, scrunched into a tiny ball. Sliding the knife back into place, he carefully unravelled the paper, only to find a single word scrawled onto it in a thick black pen.

'_PEEKABOO! :)_'.

"My sides are _aching_, Gabriel." He said dryly, rolling the paper up again and aiming in the rough direction of the bin.

The archangel appeared a moment later at the foot of his bed without the flap of wings, indicating he had already been standing there, invisible. Sam couldn't help but inwardly groan at this; had he been sleeping in an embarrassing position? Had he been making _noises_? It would be just his rotten luck that the archangel would observe him sleeping just when he was engrossed in a vivid dream and curled in the most ridiculous position, wouldn't it?

Gabriel's crooked grin curled his mouth, and his eyes were dancing with mischief, but he made no comments to indicate Sam had been caught in a humiliating situation. Yet. "Pretty bad case of bedhead you got there, Sammy."

Sam scowled, ignoring the clenching of his stomach at the archangel's words. At that moment, Gabriel chose to become engrossed in pulling a new stick of bubble gum from his pocket, so Sam tried desperately to make his hair lie flat without making it obvious as to what he was doing. The moment the archangel's eyes darted back up he dropped his hands and tried to ignore the chewing movement Gabriel's jaw was now making.

"And just why did you throw that at me?" He asked instead, nodding towards the paper several feet from the bin.

Gabriel shrugged, grinning that blinding grin of his that made Sam's insides squirm, and blew a bubble. "Target practice? Your head's big enough, Gigantor."

"Thanks a ton, Gabe."

The nickname rolled off his tongue easily. He'd been mentally referring to Gabriel as that for a long time whenever the subject of the archangel cropped up in conversation with Dean, Bobby or Castiel, but he'd never said it aloud. One day, it had just accidentally slipped out when talking to Gabriel himself, but he'd just laughed and referred to Sam as 'Sammykins' for at least a week. Sam couldn't help but notice that nobody else called Gabriel that though; like it was a name only _he_ could use. And he liked it; it kind of brought them closer.

"I'm kidding. Cassie told me to wake you up."

"You know, just nudging me or shouting my name would work."

Gabriel's expression turned scandalised, like Sam had suggested he sawed his own wings off. "But where's the fun in _that_?"

"It's more fun than having something launched at your face. Or thinking your bed's about to blow up."

The grin slid back into place after another green bubble burst. "Oh come on, that was _funny_."

"We have a very different opinion on what's funny, Gabe." Sam shook his head. "_You_ don't have to deal with Dean after you pull those stunts. _I_ do."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Deano takes all of this _way_ too seriously."

Sam shot the archangel a look; one Dean had mockingly labelled his '_Are-you-freaking-kidding-me-right-now_' bitchface. "Gabriel, you _set fire to his bed_."

"Not intentionally!"

Sam shook his head, knowing that there was no point in continuing this conversation. Gabriel would never back down and admit he took things to _beyond _the extreme, and Dean was too stubborn to tell Gabriel to tone it down himself. That would be like admitting he wasn't strong enough to handle Gabriel's stunts, or some stupid macho crap like that. And speaking of Dean..

"Where _is_ he?" Sam asked, suddenly catching sight of his brother's empty bed.

"He and Cassie left about an hour ago." Gabriel replied, collapsing at the foot of Sam's bed and on top of his legs. And Sam tried to ignore the comfortable warm weight of the archangel, he really did, but it was a miserable failure.

"An hour ago?" He echoed, by some miracle managing to keep his mind blissfully blank. "Why?"

"One of the girls who vanished came back late last night." Gabriel said and with a snap of his fingers, he held one of the missing persons reports in his hand. "Lea Osmond is officially home safe and sound. Deano and Cassie went off early to interview her."

"They didn't take you with them?" Sam asked as he took the document from Gabriel, refusing to acknowledge the way he accidentally-on-purpose brushed his fingers against the archangel's.

"Hey, someone's gotta be here to watch over you, Sleeping Beauty." Gabriel cackled with a wink.

Sam ignored the traitorous heat rising in his cheeks and distracted himself by studying the report they'd copied from Bobby. Lea's mother had reported her missing after a family fight, and she'd been gone for three days. And now, just as suddenly, she was back. That was as far as he got with his reading – he was interrupted by a particularly loud pop, followed by a groan from Gabriel.

"Oh, _great_. I hate it when this happens."

Sam glanced up from the top of the paper, and instantly wished he hadn't. Gabriel had obviously blown too big of a bubble with his gum and it had exploded, coating his lips and chin with the green sticky substance. The archangel began to pick the bigger pieces from his face, while sweeping any remnants on his lips with his tongue, apparently unaware that he had an audience.

Sam instinctively licked his own lips as he watched the motions of the archangel's tongue, before tearing his eyes away to try and bully his brain back into focusing on the case. He wished Dean and Castiel would get back soon; he didn't know how much longer he could keep his mind free from wandering. Especially if Gabriel was going to stay spread out across his legs, licking traces of gum from around his mouth.

* * *

Dean was beginning to regret his decision to leave Sam sleeping in their room and teaming up with Castiel instead.

For one, at least Sam knew how to talk to the witnesses in ways that didn't make them feel like stepped into some bizarre television show. But Castiel's completely stoic facial expression, no-nonsense gravelly tone and lack of knowledge of any human protocol made for some seriously awkward situations. The man who'd discovered Lea walking the streets wouldn't soon forget the FBI agent with the blue eyes who'd informed him the girl had been swept away by an angel. That had taken some _serious_ ad-libbing on Dean's part.

For another, Sam knew where certain lines were and when they _absolutely should not_ be crossed. Not Castiel. He flat out suggested he should pick Lea up and Angel Air her to a more private place in order for them to ask the questions they needed answering. He then got that horrible kicked puppy look and didn't understand when Dean argued so violently against the idea.

"If it _was_ angels that took her, she's not exactly gonna jump at the chance of speaking to more of them!" He'd snapped in exasperation at the time. Castiel had just frowned at him, but thankfully dropped the matter.

On the bright side, at least the angel knew which way round the badge was meant to be shown now. And although that was a step in the right direction, the events of that morning proved that Castiel wasn't yet ready to handle an interrogation without specific instructions. So, as Dean pulled the Impala to a stop just down the street from Lea's house, he turned to the angel before exiting the car.

"Okay, Cas, ground rules." He said and the angel turned to stare intently at him. "No mentioning angels, demons, _anything_ supernatural. Kid's been through a lot, and that'll just make her worse. Just let me do the talking, okay? You just sit there and look pretty."

He caught Castiel's half-hearted bitchface out of the corner of his eye as he got out of the Impala. It looked to Dean as if Castiel was aware he was being mocked for something but he was unsure as to what, so he'd scowl at it anyway. And that didn't amuse Dean, not in the slightest.

They'd managed to time their arrival at the house phenomenally well; Lea's parents were being interviewed by a local journalist, and so the conversation between the 'FBI agents' and their daughter would be completely solitary. The first thing Dean noticed when he took a seat at the table opposite Lea and next to Castiel was how remarkably _calm_ she was. It was as if the last two days had never happened to her. She sat slouched in her chair, smiling widely at the two of them in turn, and waiting for one to speak. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her brown eyes portrayed no hidden negative emotion.

"So, Lea," Dean began, clearing his throat. "What do you remember of the past three days?"

"Like I told the police when they came by earlier, not a lot." Lea replied with a gentle shrug. Her voice was remained completely level and at ease; almost _too_ calm for a girl in her situation. It was starting to freak Dean out a bit. "Bits and pieces, really."

"What do you remember? Anything could help us at this point, and we need you to think. It could help us to find the other missing people."

Her smile only broadened. "You won't find them where I was."

Well _that_ certainly caught Dean's attention. "What do you mean?"

"Nobody goes to the same place, obviously." She said, her tone suggesting that this was basic knowledge Dean should already have. "I mean, you won't learn much if you're living someone else's story, will you?"

The hunter shook himself, trying not to let his confusion show on his face. "Let's, uh, get back on track. Your mother said in her report you'd stormed out after a family fight. Want to elaborate?"

"It was with my dad." She said, her tone now a little quieter. "He's been really sick recently, and it's only been getting worse. But he was still going on about how he'd go to war if he had to, going off on one of these macho-bullshit rants he has every week or so. And then he told me it's an honour to serve your country in a time of war. I told him he was wrong, and left."

"Your father is correct." Castiel didn't seem to be able to stop himself. Dean shut him up as he opened his mouth again with a venomous glare, and the angel instantly fell silent once more. But Lea was nodding, smiling.

"I get that _now_. But I was so angry that he'd even _consider_ doing that, I just had to get some space. It started raining, but I didn't want to go home that soon. So I found the house, and went in."

"What was it like?"

"What, the house? It felt like walking into the middle of a thunderstorm, if you want the truth. And it seemed like the door hadn't been opened in _forever_. The air was so thick, it was almost suffocating."

"And what was inside?" Dean asked.

She shrugged and shook her head. "A whole lot of nothing."

Dean waited for her to press on, but when she remained silent, he cleared his throat again. "Do you remember anything past that?"

"Not a thing, sorry." Lea replied, grinning once again. "But I learned a lesson, and I get what my dad meant now. But I can't let him go, he'd never survive." Then, puffing out her chest with pride, she said, "I'm joining up."

And Dean honestly didn't have a response to that, so they thanked her and left.

* * *

"So you think she was lying?"

Not an hour later and all four of them were sat in a diner, talking through Dean and Castiel's interview with Lea. Sam was picking his way through a salad while Dean took a huge bite out of his burger. Another, the exact replica of Dean's meal, sat in front of Castiel but he had yet to touch it. Gabriel was making his way through a caramel covered sundae, fighting with the spoon to get to the awkward-to-reach points of the glass.

Dean shrugged, swallowing his mouthful. "I think so. Just this feeling I got from her. I think she remembers more than she was letting on."

"What makes you so sure of that, Deano?" Gabriel asked, now tipping the glass upside down to catch the last remains of his dessert. "And Cassie, hate to go all traditional big bro on you, but hurry up and eat that would you?"  
"I am an angel, Gabriel. I have no need for sustenance." He then looked at the archangel pointedly and added, "And nor do you."

Gabriel only grinned. "I know. But they're damn good. So come on, Deano. Why's your sixth sense going off?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "She said she learnt a lesson from this whole thing, right? Well, she couldn't really have learnt anything if she can't remember it, could she?"

Sam was nodding. "It makes sense. But why wouldn't she tell us the truth?"

"Maybe she thinks we'd think she was crazy." Dean suggested with a shrug. "And hey, it's a little weird what she's doing."

"Joining the army so her dad doesn't? Yeah Dean, it's buckets of crazy." Sam shot back, deadpan.

"Humans," Gabriel muttered, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "You gotta love 'em."

"I do not find that her wishes vary that far from our own choices." Castiel said, eyes fixed on the tabletop. "She desires to fight to protect her father. I feel that is a plight we are all able to relate to."

"Aaaand trust Cassie to turn this fifty times more serious." Gabriel muttered with a sigh, pushing his empty sundae glass away before turning to Sam. "Hey, Sammy, can you order me another one? I'll be back in a sec."

"Sure." Sam said, knowing how pointless it was to try and get Gabriel to stop calling him by that nickname. "Where are you going?"

"Gonna do a quick check upstairs to see if anybody took an earthly nosedive last night. Couldn't have pulled the girl back from wherever they'd taken her otherwise."

"Okay. Are you gonna go outside to -" The rest of Sam's sentence died in his throat as Gabriel promptly vanished from the seat next to him. "- I guess not." With a sigh, he too slid out of the booth. "You guys want anything?"

"Pie. Love me some pie." Dean replied without missing a beat, grinning at Sam when he rolled his eyes and left.

He returned a few minutes later, one hand holding a plate with a slice of cherry pie and the other a second sundae glass. Castiel watched as Sam slid the glass onto the table in front of his original seat before sliding across to the one that Gabriel had previously been sat in. Out of the corner of his eye Castiel saw Dean's mouth curl into a malevolent grin as he spotted the glass in front of him.

"I phoned Bobby." Sam explained as he handed Dean his pie and evidently didn't spot the downright evil look on his brother's face. "Told him what Lea said and how you guys think she's lying, but we're no closer to figuring out - Dean, what are you doing?"

Because as he was speaking, Dean was reaching across the table towards Gabriel's sundae. Dean completely ignored his brother's question, instead choosing to mutter choice phrases like, 'Teach him to screw with me,' and 'This is gonna be _awesome_,' under his breath. And then, before Sam could stop him, Dean grabbed the salt shaker and tipped a great quantity of it over Gabriel's dessert. Still grinning, he slid the glass back across the table before catching sight of Sam's number ten bitchface; the '_Dean-you're-a-fucking-moron_' one.

"_Why_?" Was all he said as he folded his arms over his chest and scowled.

Dean shrugged, still grinning. "Fire crackers, Sammy. He used fire crackers."

Before Sam could form a response, they heard footsteps approaching their table and a moment later Gabriel reappeared. Luckily, it seemed he had had the good sense to zap himself someplace away from the prying eyes of humanity this time, and then walked back to the diner. His eyes lit up with a happy gleam when he spotted the new sundae awaiting him, and slid into the seat Sam had left for him. Dean spotted his brother eyeing the glass warily and opening his mouth, so he gave him a sharp kick to the shin. Sam shot him another bitchface, but Dean ignored it.

"So, did you find anyone who could be our guy?" He asked, trying not to sound or look too suspicious.

Gabriel shook his head, picking up his spoon. "Everyone's present and accounted for. Literally everyone. Believe me, I checked. Couldn't have been anyone up there." He sounded uncharacteristically serious as he spoke.

"So what? We off the angel theory?" Sam asked, still glaring daggers at Dean.

"No, I think that's the best one we've got right now." Gabriel replied and Dean tried desperately not to look too happy when the archangel stuck the spoon into his ice cream. "Just means Cassie and I have to find someone who's wandering around down here that shouldn't be."

"Sounds like a fun job." Sam muttered and Gabriel grimaced at him.

"Oh yeah, it's a riot. Best way to spend your Friday night. I literally can't imagine anything more entertaining." The archangel said, utterly deadpan.

Castiel gave his brother his usual head tilt and opened his mouth to speak – but he never got the chance. Because at that very moment, Gabriel decided to start eating. The moment the ruined food touched his tongue, his entire face screwed up in disgust and he spluttered, even going as far as to wipe his tongue on the back of his sleeve. Across from him, Dean burst out laughing and picked up the salt shaker to jiggle it in front of the archangel's face.

"And now we're even." He said with a smug air to his tone.

Gabriel scowled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he glared at the hunter. "You're gonna live to regret that, Deano. There's a lot of things you don't sink to in a prank war, and messing with my sugar intake is one of them."

"Yeah, because _you're_ the shining example of keeping things above the belt." Dean shot back, and Sam couldn't help but admit his brother had a point.

Gabriel just shrugged, and an evil grin to match Dean's began to ink its way onto his face. "If you think you had it bad before, Deano, then just you wait. Things are about to get _fun_."

Sam caught Castiel's eye and knew he was thinking exactly the same thing; Dick wouldn't have to worry about killing Dean and Gabriel because if this constant war went on any longer, their brothers would happily do it for him.


	4. Chapter 4

They managed to get through the rest of their meal without Gabriel retaliating, but Sam had a horrible feeling that was only because he had a much worse plot in mind than firecrackers or tainting Dean's food. The archangel had just seemed a touch _too_ happy about something, and the constant smile curling his mouth had gained a malicious, almost evil tilt. Not to mention the mischievous spark in his eyes that had practically roared into a blazing gleam, and the way he kept chuckling under his breath. It all made Sam uncomfortable and frankly a little worried for his brother's wellbeing.

Dean had well and truly poked the bear, and Sam was certain that on their list of exceptionally bad ideas, this was one of his worst. It was definitely up there with injecting himself with the phoenix ash in order to kill Eve and running out in front of Gordon and a fellow hunter to draw their guns away from Sam. Playing with fire was generally considered to be detrimental to your health, and in comparison Gabriel was the Towering Inferno. This was someone who had posed for millennia as a _Trickster_, and who just happened to have the powers of an _archangel_, after all.

So when Dean got up to pay for their meal, Sam jumped at the chance. He grabbed the archangel's arm to get his attention and spoke in an urgent whisper so that it wasn't at all possible for Dean to overhear them.

"Please don't do anything life-threatening to him, Gabe.."

"Don't worry, Sammy." Gabriel replied, grinning up at the human beside him. "I'm seventy per cent sure Cassie would be able to stick Deano back together again when I'm done with him. Once he's found all the pieces, obviously."

Sam rolled his eyes and frowned but Castiel's head snapped around to full-out _glare_ at the archangel, his tone holding the promise of destruction and pain. "You will bring no harm to Dean."

Gabriel's grin only grew wider at this. "So you're finally learning to defend your toys? I'm impressed, Cassie." He shook his head and waved a hand in the other angel's direction when Castiel's glare only intensified, and Sam shifted uncomfortably beside him. "Don't worry, I'm kidding. I wouldn't kill him. But you'd be surprised what you can live through.." He added with a smile.

"_Gabriel_." Castiel said sharply, eyes icy steel.

"Joke, Cassie! Geez, _chill_. Stop getting your panties in a twist; I'm _kidding_." Catching both Castiel's serious and Sam's uncomfortable gazes, Gabriel rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat. "I won't hurt a hair on his head, _okay_? You two satisfied?"

"I do not find your attempts at humour very amusing."

The archangel pouted around the spoon hanging out of his mouth. "That's 'cos you've got no measureable sense of humour. Sammy thinks I'm funny. Don't you, Samsquatch?"

Sam shrugged. "When you're not waking me up with firecrackers, yeah, you're a riot."

And there it was; that blinding smile that left Sam's insides roiling and twisting. Thankfully, that was when Dean decided to return and Gabriel turned away, not noticing the goofy grin that had unconsciously broken out on Sam's face. Unfortunately for him though, if Dean's smirk and raised eyebrows were anything to go by, he'd been spotted by his older brother. Sam had to resist the urge to groan; ever since Gabriel had come back into their lives and Dean had discovered Sam's not-so-subtle crush, he'd had to endure almost constant teasing. And it wasn't like Sam could turn the tables on him by bringing up Castiel, because Dean was still firmly fixed in the world of denial.

"So, what's the plan now?" Sam asked hurriedly, trying to change the subject.

"I say we go and talk to the families of the other victims." Dean suggested. "Find out why they were in that house in the first place. See if their motives give us any sort of connection so we can figure out why this angel's taking them."

"Sounds like a good idea. Just give me a minute to get back to the motel and change, and we can get started."

"Actually Sammy, I was thinking you should team up with Gabriel while I stick with Cas. If Lea's already seen the two of us working together, it's gonna look a little suspicious if I suddenly have a new partner. That and I don't trust him to be left alone right now." As he finished speaking, he pointed directly at the archangel, whose eyes narrowed and mouth curved into a smirk.

"You had every right to be afraid, Deano." Gabriel replied in a tone of utter calm. "But don't worry; I've been told I'm not allowed to retaliate. So I won't. Well, not while Sammy or Cassie are around, anyways."

* * *

Three hours later and Sam was slouched on his bed, leafing through the reports of the families he and Gabriel had gone to visit, including Matt's brother, Andy. The whole thing had been one big torture session in all honesty. Just when he thought seeing Gabriel picking gum off his face while lying across his legs was bad enough, that was before he'd spotted the archangel in a fucking _suit_.

This was the being that spent his every waking hour with his vessel encased in a shirt, jeans and a jacket. Seeing him dressed so differently suddenly made Sam appreciate why many people had a kink for suits; and now when it came to Gabriel, he was undeniably one of them. The way the snug-fitting clothes clung to the archangel's body was a particularly pleasing sight, and after seeing Gabriel from the back, Sam made a mental note to stay in front at all times if he wanted any chance of keeping his mind fixed on the case.

How he refrained himself from letting his imagination run away with him was some sort of miracle, Sam was certain. And so was the way Gabriel never seemed to notice his sneaking side-glances. Sam just couldn't tear his eyes away from the archangel half the time, and when Gabriel pulled out a fucking _lollipop_ after interviewing Matt and Andy's mother, Sam was pretty certain he forgot just how breathing worked. And yet the archangel remained completely oblivious, which Sam was both delighted about and irritated by in equal measure.

After all, even if Gabriel denied his advances flat out, at least that was some sort of answer. Stuck in this painful limbo was horrible, and Gabriel was around Sam _constantly_. His reasoning for this being that he and Dean didn't get on, and that he found Sam's company to be much more pleasurable. But if it wasn't Gabriel's flirty comments, it was his smirks, or his sweets, or his Casa Erotica tape that he'd somehow found, and it was all barrelling Sam towards the brink of insanity once again. But on the other hand, if he made a move and Gabriel decided inevitably that he didn't want what Sam was offering, he could decide not to show his face again. At least this way, Sam got to spend time with the archangel.

With a groan, the hunter fell back onto his pillow, slapping the reports into his face.

"Your time of the month, Samantha?" Dean's voice filtered in from somewhere else in their motel room, mocking. He and Castiel had arrived shortly after Sam and Gabriel, and the angels had promptly vanished to take care of important business in Heaven. Not before Gabriel had practically wrenched his tie off, though, revealing a shot of his collarbone that had Sam having to physically hold himself down in order to prevent him doing something he might end up regretting.

"Shut up, Dean." He growled in reply, past the point of being patient with his brother's teasing. "You know this really sucks for me. Thanks for sticking him with me, by the way."

"He's practically glued to your side as it is." Dean said with a shrug, brandishing his own report at Sam. "Besides, what do you think he'd have done if we'd just let him go? We'd have come back here to an alligator or something."

"Don't give him ideas, for God's sake.."

"It's true and you know it, bitch."

"Just because he's with us doesn't mean he's not set something up for you anyway, jerk. Archangel, remember? Just because he has a constant audience doesn't mean he can't still do what he does."

Dean didn't seem to have an answer for that. Instead, he just gave another non-committal shrug and sat on the edge of his bed just across from Sam. "So, what'd you two find out?"

Sam sat up with a huff of air and held up Andy's report. "These two haven't had a very easy time recently. Apparently their father and uncle were in a bad car crash about a month ago. Their dad didn't make it. According to their mother, Andy was really torn up by it. I asked Matt, and he said he thought Andy blamed himself for what happened. They were driving out to pick Andy up when it happened."

Dean pulled a face while Sam nodded grimly, then set the report aside and picked up two at once. One showed a photograph of a smiling woman with flowing auburn hair and bright, brown eyes. Around her neck was a necklace of sapphire-blue gems with a golden charm dangling from the end. The other was what looked like a police photograph. It showed a man with dark, messy hair, yet his expression was alive with cockiness and charisma.

"Barbara Roberts and Larry Luddy. She's from this really well-off family in town, and they weren't exactly sold on the idea of their only daughter abandoning her morals and seeing an ex-prisoner. Not even Gabriel could find anyone related to the guy, so his backstory was a total bust. All we got is that he went to prison for theft. God knows how these two even _met_, but it looks like they just ran away together."

"And what have they got to do with the house and its resident angel?" Dean asked, brows furrowed.

"Nothing, you'd have thought. I mean, if I were going to run away with someone, I wouldn't hang about. But apparently they decided to take a detour to the house, and the angel chose them. Neighbours saw two people matching their descriptions breaking in and they called the police, but when they arrived, there wasn't anybody in there."

"And did the cops notice anything weird?"

"Apart from two people still inside seeming to have vanished into thin air, you mean?" Sam asked dryly, and Dean scowled at him. "Gabe managed to work something out of one of them, but it's not really anything. Nothing we don't know already, anyway. Just that the air was thick, and the room was really bright when he first walked in."

"So we've got a kid on a dare, a girl hiding from a fight and a couple on the run from her family. Not seeing much of a connection here so far, Sammy." Dean muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

Sam grimaced. "It gets better."

He abandoned Barbara and Larry's reports, and picked up the last two of his pile, both of which showed two teenage boys. The first was slightly overweight but with a beaming, almost burningly warm smile on his face and his blue eyes alight with life, even in the picture. The second couldn't have been further from the first. He was skin and bones with a shallow face and a pinched expression, as if he had a bad smell under his nose.

"David Goodman," Sam waved the second report, "And John Spade were the last ones to go missing. David's an orphan but was adopted by someone in Barbara's family, and according to everyone at his school, he's a jackass. And at the other end of the spectrum is John. Not great family, but pretty much adored by everyone we spoke to. Couldn't fault him in any way, except he's got a temper. Apparently some kids decided David needed to be taken down a peg or two, and told him about the ghost. David said they were pathetic for believing in something so childish, so they told him to spend the night."

"So wait, the stupid kid hears its haunted and that people have actually been going missing, and he still goes in?" Dean asked incredulously.

"We deal with this kind of stupid every other week, Dean." Sam reasoned with a frown. "Anyway, John apparently hears what these guys have done and he goes after David to stop him, and next thing we know they're gone." Sam slid the reports on top of the new pile and shook his head. "Still not much of a connection. Please tell me you and Cas have something worthwhile."

But Dean's scowl only deepened as he held up a single report; the one depicting the father and young son. "Albert and Alex Root. Alex manages to get away from his dad for a few minutes, finds the house and decides to explore it. Dad finds him after a frantic search but that's when they both vanish. Thing is, this one happened in broad daylight, and a couple of neighbours swear they heard the kid scream. Sick."

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "There wasn't any blood when we went to check it out."

"No, but if it really is an angel we're dealing with, we know they're more than capable of cleaning up after themselves. Hurting kids, though. Fucking _douchebags_." Dean's tone clearly portrayed his disgust as he laid the report down.

"That's highly discriminatory, I hope you realise. Not all of us are douchebags."

Both hunters jumped as Gabriel spoke from behind Sam. He was laid out on the younger Winchester's bed, his feet overlapping at the ankles, hands crossed behind his head. A moment later and Castiel had also appeared directly next to Dean's bed, though the elder Winchester managed to refrain from starting a second time. He was probably too busy glaring at the archangel.

"Cas might not be, but you certainly are."

Gabriel smirked. "Oh, and if you think _alligators_ are the worst thing I can come up with, you clearly have a lot to learn."

"I _told_ you not to give him ideas, Dean.." Sam said, then blanched as realisation set in. _If Gabriel had heard that, what else had he heard?  
_  
"Oh please, Sammy! Like I need him to give me ideas; come _on_."

Dean rolled his eyes but obviously caught Sam's impression of a deer in the headlights, because he hastily changed the subject. "What are you guys doing back here? I thought you were busy tonight?"

"We had to check up on a few things, but nobody upstairs seems to know what's going on. Or if they do, they're not saying. So Cassie had a rather brilliant idea."

"I merely offered the suggestion that we should accompany Dean and Sam to the house in case we are able to sense what they cannot."

Seeing as nobody had any other ideas, and Sam wanted desperately to escape from the idea that Gabriel had heard what he and Dean had been discussing just after the alligator comment, the Winchesters piled into the Impala and set off while the angels flew ahead. All too soon they were back at the cliché excuse for a house of horrors, looking as empty and unnaturally still as ever. Dean went straight to forcing his way inside, Castiel on his heels, leaving Sam and Gabriel outside to perform a perimeter check.

"I don't get why we bothered with this." Sam muttered suddenly as he poked around in the overgrown weeds at the back of the house with his handgun. "I mean, why would it be any different than when we were here the last time?" With a sigh, he stood and turned to Gabriel. "Can you feel anything?"

The archangel gave the smallest of nods. "Yes. It's definitely an angel, but I'm struggling to pinpoint just who. They've masked their Grace from me well. Almost like they knew I'd come here."

Before Sam could ask any of the questions that had exploded in his brain in a flurry at that revelation, he heard something that made his blood turn to an icy mush in his veins.

"_Sam_!"

It was Dean's voice, and he sounded panicked and in pain. Both he and Gabriel started, and the archangel spun on his heel to stare at the house, his expression melting into one of understanding. He reached out a hand to still Sam and to warn him to leave, immediately, but the younger Winchester wasn't beside him anymore. Without thinking, reacting on blind instinct alone, Sam had taken off across the grass, leaving the archangel frozen for a moment behind him. He then heard Gabriel's voice yelling at him to stop, to _wait_, but he didn't listen; he couldn't. He tore through the door to the house and was halfway across the room when the atmosphere in front of him shifted and Gabriel appeared from nowhere, looking furious.

"_Think_, idiot! Deano has Cassie with him! Don't you think I'd have felt it if he was hurt? Your brother is _fine_, but he won't be if we stay here much longer! This is a trap, and we have to go _now_!"

"What -" Sam began, but his voice died in his throat at the sound of approaching boots on the floorboards.

"What the _fuck_ are you shouting about, Gabriel?!" Dean suddenly surged into the room a moment later and Sam felt a twinge of shame. It was just after everything they'd been through, hearing Dean screaming out for his help like that.. It snapped something inside Sam, and he hadn't been able to resist reacting. It was reflex, something that just came naturally to him.

"We have to go, now." Gabriel repeated, already moving towards the door. "Just keep Castiel -"

But before he could finish his sentence, the angel in question suddenly appeared in the doorway just behind Dean and Gabriel swore loudly instead. "What is going on?"

Gabriel had just opened his mouth to speak when it happened. One moment, the only source of light where the two torches Sam and Dean were carrying. The next, a bomb made entirely of blinding illumination had erupted in the very centre of the room, just in front of where the hunters and archangel were standing. With twin yells, Sam and Dean threw their arms over their eyes as they staggered backwards, multi-coloured dots bursting before their visions. Sam was only just aware of someone's hand cinching around his upper arm and Castiel's yell for Dean was almost completely drowned out by the sudden rushing of air in his ears before he blacked out.

* * *

Bobby had said it himself several times; he was a paranoid bastard.

So when several of his calls to both Sam and Dean's phones had yielded nothing but the same repeated voicemail messages, he had to set out and see what was going on for himself. If his boys were in danger he was getting involved; it was as simple as that. Luckily, Sam had told him exactly where they were staying the last time they had spoken, as well as the location for the house he had sent them out to find.

Bobby Singer also wasn't a man of many words. So when he checked all known locations of the Winchesters and their idjit angels and found nothing except the Impala, an empty house and an equally deserted motel room, there was only one thing he _could_ say.

"_Balls_."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, sorry about the delay with this chapter. I had three essays to finish before Christmas, plus just before Christmas Day I got an awful case of stomach flu. Ack, not nice. x_x

On a more positive note; finally, the story's beginning to move.. xP Hopefully I can get the next chapter up before I have to go back to Uni, but since they've set us work to do - over freaking _Christmas_, I know - I can't set anything in stone. But I'll give it my best ^^

Reviews will be greatly appreciated; I kept re-reading the ones I have while stuck in bed and they kept my spirits from hitting rock bottom! You guys absolutely _rule_! I hope your Christmases were spent in significantly better health than mine was, and I hope you have a great New Year! :D


	5. Chapter 5

Gabriel was suddenly aware of cold; icy, biting cold, all over his body.

And didn't that just send the alarm bells triggering all across his brain? He was an archangel; he wasn't supposed to _feel_ things like a human. He was used to having a constant thrum of warmth inside that came from his Grace. But even as he searched internally for the comforting heat that usually blazed inside him, he realised with a pang that it _wasn't there_. Somebody had sealed it away from him.

And that was when confusion and mild irritation morphed into fear; genuine, gut-wrenching fear. He had no idea how to survive as a human. It was Castiel that had know-how however limited in that field, not him. Sure, he'd been on earth for far longer than Castiel, and yes, he might have been pretending to be human for a lot of that time, but it has been just that; an act. He hadn't actually been cut off from his angelic power during that time. And if his younger brother's experience was anything to go by, the idea wasn't a very enjoyable one.

His eyes flew open – when had he even _closed_ them? – and started. The bleak, dusty interior of the house had gone to be replaced with nothing but blue. He blinked several times, but the image didn't change. As he turned his head to spin in a circle, a trail of bubbles followed his movement. He froze, watching as each one either popped or began to drift lazily upwards. Brain jamming all functions in his utter bafflement, Gabriel turned his head up to be greeted with the rippling surface of water. He inhaled, just to check, and found breathing came completely naturally to him.

Okay, he decided, it was time to think methodically; make a list of what was happening and try to work around it. He was in some sort of expanse of water, he was cut off from his Grace but he was having no issues breathing underwater. He could feel his heartbeat thumping away rapidly in his chest, but he _wasn't_ panicking. This was _nothing_ to panic over.

That was what he was in the middle of saying until he tried to kick his legs and found something that just tipped him over the edge.

When his body didn't move other than to jerk awkwardly, Gabriel glanced a look down at his body and every conscious thought he'd had up until that point slammed headlong into a brick wall. For one thing, he was naked. His usual shirt and jacket had gone, leaving his pale chest exposed to the icy bite of the water. Around his waist was what looked – and felt – like a strand of murky green seaweed. Tucked into this just beside his vessel's jutting hip bone was a thick rock, carefully sharpened to a cruel point at one end.

But it was everything below that belt of seaweed that was monumentally _wrong_. Instead of seeing his vessel's short legs, there was a _tail_. It was a beautiful shade of mossy green, slim and with every scale shining. Two thin, delicate looking fins spread out at the bottom, a gentle shade of lime in colour. Gabriel felt his jaw drop open as he experimentally thrust forwards with his waist, and watched as the tail followed the movement, too.

"_There_ you are! We lost you for a second!"

Gabriel was so highly strung at that given moment, it was a miracle that he hadn't gone for the stick of rock tied to his belt. Luckily however, before blind panic could win over, his common sense had informed him that he knew the speaker. Slowly, he spun around and felt a rush of relief hit him, but this was quickly replaced with the same crippling confusion that had been with him ever since he'd woken up.

Floating just behind him in the water were Castiel and Balthazar but with one major difference; they too, both had tails instead of legs. Castiel's was a lighter blue than his eyes, the scales beautiful and shimmering in the soft turquoise water. Balthazar's, like Gabriel's, was more of an emerald green, the fins a wonderful shade of olive. They, like him, wore nothing on their chests, and Balthazar carried a rock similar to his in a second loop of seaweed around his hips.

Before he could move another muscle, Castiel spoke. "I see you are here to await the ship." He paused to gaze at the water's surface above their heads and _shrugged_. "A little early perhaps, but that is better than arriving too late."

"Ship? What ship?" Gabriel asked, deeply confused. His voice sounded perfectly normal; just as it did when he had last opened his mouth back at the house when he was safely on land. An octave or two higher, perhaps, but he'd like to see someone wake up in his situation that didn't experience even a nugget of alarm.

Balthazar and Castiel exchanged a look during which the darker haired merman shrugged again and shook his head. The blonde then turned back and said, "You're joking, right?" in an amused tone.

"What ship?" Gabriel repeated, beginning to get impatient. He was freaking out, dammit! He needed to know just who the _fuck_ thought it'd be a good idea to screw with him, and get to smiting their sorry backsides. He didn't have time to waste on talking about some stupid _ship_!

After exchanging another look with Balthazar who only folded his arms over his bare chest, Castiel turned back to Gabriel and frowned. "The ship you have yet to stop talking about? The one you have spoken to us about for _weeks_? Am I jogging your memory at all, brother?"

For a moment, Gabriel was too stunned for speech. Then, he managed to weakly stammer, "Was that.. Was that _sarcasm_?" Because, seriously? _Seriously_?! On top of everything else, Castiel chose _now_ to learn the human idiosyncrasies he'd been trying unsuccessfully to drill into his brain?!

Castiel's head tipped in its trademark tilt, eyebrows furrowing in a way his stoic features didn't normally allow, and his frown deepened. "Not at all." He said in the same derisive tone, but with an underlining of confusion this time. "Not in the _slightest_."

"Gabriel, what's _with_ you?" Balthazar added, also now looking slightly concerned. "You're acting weird."

"_I'm_ acting weird?!" The archangel cried in disbelief, gesturing wildly through the water towards Castiel, who started. "_He's_ the one that's developed a sense of humour all of a sudden! And I think if the two of you just woke up in the middle of the ocean with a damn _tail_, you'd be freaking out too! So forgive me if I'm a little off, but this doesn't happen to me often!"

"What are you _talking_ about?!" Castiel was now shouting. "You have been with us all _day_! You have not 'just woken up' _anywhere_! And you have _always_ been a merman!"

"_What_?" Gabriel could only mutter.

"He's right, Gabe." Balthazar now sounded rather scared. "You've not left our sights all day. And we grew up together. _Remember_?"

"Have you hit your head on anything?" Castiel asked, still sounding tetchy, pointing at his own skull.

"How can he have? We've been with him, and he definitely hasn't." Balthazar argued, scratching a spot on the back of his neck, looking thoroughly perplexed at Gabriel's reactions.

"No." Gabriel replied indignantly. The last thing he could remember was Sam's confused and shocked face as that brilliant light engulfed them all. The next thing he knew, he was floating in the middle of a freezing cold ocean without access to his Grace, had somehow grown a tail and was in the company of two merman brothers who apparently believed him to be somebody else.

"Are you _sure_?" Castiel pressed, ignoring Balthazar. "Because that would really explain what is happening on here."

"_I didn't hit my head_." Gabriel ground out through clenched teeth. "There was a light, and -" He trailed off as a thought suddenly struck him. "Hey, have you two seen a hu-" But he suddenly stopped himself. He had only assumed Sam had been pulled into this crazy new world because he'd been holding the hunter's arm at the time, but even if he had, there was no guarantee that he was still a human being.

"Have we seen a hu?" Balthazar echoed, docking an eyebrow and looking as if he was starting to believe Gabriel had smacked his head against something without their noticing.

"A huge person, floppy brown hair and these great, big brown eyes?" Gabriel answered, feeling proud of his quick-thinking.

Balthazar still looked blank but Castiel frowned and folded his arms over his bare chest. "Gabriel, this is _far _from being amusing now."

"What?" Gabriel asked defensively.

"Yeah, what?" Balthazar said, turning to Castiel.

"Balthazar, he is talking about Sam Winchester." Castiel seemed to ignore Gabriel's question as he directed his answer to the blonde merman beside him instead.

At once, realisation dawned on Balthazar's face. "Oh, _that's_ what the famous Winchester prince looks like? He sounds _intriguing_. You have good taste, brother." And he winked across in Gabriel's direction.

"You know Sam?!" Gabriel cried, and then realised just what Balthazar had said, and turned to him instead to be met with a teasing grin. "Wait, _what_?" First of all, _prince_? Second, why the hell was Balthazar saying he had good taste? _What the fuck was going on_?!

"Of course I know Sam, Gabriel." Castiel replied sharply, capturing Gabriel's attention once more. "You have only dragged me off to spy on him a million times or so as he travels or from his castle. But I suppose that could be easy for you to forget."

Gabriel fell silent with a speculative frown on his face. At first, his heart had leapt at the mention of Sam. If Castiel knew the younger Winchester, that meant there was a chance of finding somebody from his own real timeline. But what if this Sam was just a further figment in this crazy place, especially if here he was a prince? What if he, like Castiel and Balthazar, looked like his real-life counterpart but was not the being that Gabriel knew? As this thought occurred to him, he felt his mood drop once more. He supposed there was only one way to find out, though, and if it came to it, he'd need to find a way to escape by himself. He was an _archangel_, after all. No lesser angel was going to keep _him_ imprisoned for long.

Because Gabriel highly doubted that any of the other archangels were to blame for this. Lucifer and Michael, he knew, were still firmly locked in the Cage. He was fairly certain that Raphael was still dead, and that even if he _had_ come back to life in secret, the first thing on his agenda wouldn't be trapping two of his brothers and two hunters in some crazy alternative dimension. And hell, Gabriel certainly hadn't done this. It was definitely an angel's work, though.

"Sam's going to be on that ship, yes?" He asked.

Castiel, who's bad temper had seemingly calmed during Gabriel's minute of reflection, nodded. When he spoke, his voice was back to its usual gruff, authoritative self, but the angry bite had definitely vanished. "Yes. That is why we are out here, despite Father's orders. You were insistent on seeing Sam, and their ship is due to pass right through this place."

Gabriel nodded, although he hadn't really been listening past Castiel affirming his suspicions. The angel behind all of this had chosen to drop him at this specific place, which the version of him in this world had insisted on going to. Clearly something important was on that ship, and Gabriel hoped with everything he had that it was the Sam from _his_ world. Surely, if anyone could figure out what was going on, it was the younger Winchester.

* * *

Sam felt something wonderfully soft and comfortable beneath his head and back. It felt like he was floating on air, his every muscle relaxed and at ease. He was being gently rocked from side to side, the motion encouraging him back to unconscious oblivion. There were no awkward springs poking into random parts of his body, no lumpy mattresses causing a thousand and one aches for him to discover upon waking, no pathetically thin, raggedy pillows. He couldn't remember the last time he felt _this_ relaxed; hell, he doubted he'd _ever_ experienced this level of utter contentment. But now that consciousness was beginning to seep back into his sleep-addled brain, remnants of the last moments he remembered came flooding back.

Gabriel berating him for acting like an utter moron. Dean sliding into the room with Castiel only a moment or two behind him. Gabriel's reaction upon seeing his younger brother. The blinding light that Sam could only ever remember belonging to angels. Gabriel lunging at him and grabbing his arm. Where he lay, Sam brushed his fingers against that spot on his arm. It was probably his imagination, but he could have sworn he could feel the ghost imprints of the archangel's strong fingers, like they had been there until moments ago.

The thought of that made him open his eyes. He half expected to be back in their motel room with both Gabriel and Dean sat nearby, cocky grins on their faces as they readied themselves for the hours of teasing that would be sure to follow his fainting fit. That would explain the comfort surely; no matter how much Gabriel would mock him for it, he would ensure Sam was kept as comfortable as possible until he awakened. But the room he found himself lying in was most definitely _not_ the one he'd woken up in that morning.

For starters, the bed he lay on was the furthest thing from crappy that he could imagine. The mattress was soft and springy, and gave way at his lightest touch. There weren't any thin blankets covering him but a single, full duvet covered in a material strongly resembling silk. Several full, plush pillows were perched behind his head, fully supporting him from the shoulders up.

Heartbeat racing, Sam sat bolt upright and stared at his new surroundings. The walls and floor of the room were made of panelled wood, polished and sparkling clean. A desk was pushed against the far wall adjacent to the door, covered with papers and several books. There was a chair directly next to his bed, almost like somebody had been sat there watching him sleep. To his left, just above the bed, was a large window. Sam stared out of it and felt his jaw drop. All he could see was the ocean, stretching as far as it was possible to view, beneath a rather dark, stormy-looking sky.

"What the fuck?" He muttered to himself, sliding out of the bed and discovering only then that he was still wearing the clothes he had been when they'd entered the house. They were a familiar sight, and helped calm his panicking somewhat.

That was until the door burst open and three figures walked in, Dean amongst them. But the other two left Sam's knees feeling like they were about to give out, and he felt the colour drain out of his face the longer he stared at his father and Adam Milligan. Adam, he was fairly certain, was still locked in the Cage with Michael and Lucifer, and his father was supposed to be dead. But yet here they both were, and with Dean standing next to them like there was nothing wrong, all three of them grinning from ear to ear at him.

"_Finally_. I was about to come wake you up myself!" Adam said, walking forwards and clapping Sam on the shoulder. "Happy birthday, Sam!"

"Wh.. _What_?" Was all the hunter was able to stammer, staring blankly at the younger man before him.

Dean then also approached, laughing and shaking his head fondly. "It's your birthday today, remember? It's why we had to sail home so quickly? Well, that and you and Ruby didn't really part on the best of terms." Both he and Adam then smirked.

"Boys, leave your brother's love life alone. He's had a tough time recently." John Winchester ordered, and both Dean and Adam's mocking smiles were instantly replaced with the warm, happy ones of before. "Don't worry son. We'll find a suitable princess for you one day. Just enjoy your birthday for now, and don't let thoughts of the last week or so enter your mind."

Sam really couldn't force himself to say _anything_ in response. His entire throat had closed up making speech impossible, and his legs were shaking so badly he was fairly certain he was going to keel over at any moment. It was bad enough seeing his father alive and Adam breathing the free air again, but the whole thing made him suddenly realise with a pang just how horribly alone he currently was.

This world's Dean clearly wasn't the same Dean he knew. That Dean wouldn't have just swept into a room with two men that were supposed to be dead, smiling broadly, wishing him a happy birthday and teasing him about something that had happened with _Ruby_. And as none of them had mentioned either Gabriel or Castiel, it seemed apparent they weren't anywhere nearby, either. And had his father mentioned something about a _princess_? It was all one colossal mindfuck, and not something he wanted to just wake up and discover moments afterwards.

"Come on boys, let's leave him to wake himself up. See you later, Sam. Oh, one more thing." John reached past Adam and gripped Sam's shoulder in a vice-like hold, smiling as widely as the other two. "Happy birthday, son."

And then, with waves from both Dean and Adam, all three of them left Sam alone once more. Unable to keep himself upright any longer, Sam collapsed back onto the side of the bed and stayed there, staring at the now closed door.

"What the _fuck_ is going on?"

* * *

Dean flew into a sitting position the moment he felt consciousness trickling back into his body. He was lying in a bed with sunlight streaming in through a small window to his left. Staring out of it he saw nothing but fields beneath a forget-me-not blue sky, with a river winding through the green land. The room he sat in was tiny, but there was still a second bed pushed against the far wall. Dean swung his legs out of bed, ready to march straight outside and demand to know where he was, but the movement knocked something out of his lap, falling with two separate thuds on the floor.

He looked, and started. Both his and Sam's phones lay upon the rough wooden boards, their screens shining in the sunlight. Dean hastily scooped them up and tried his first. Remarkably, he had signal so he punched in Bobby's number and pressed the device to his ear. And of course, he should have realised it wouldn't possibly be that easy. The only sound he heard in response was static before the call dropped out altogether. Frowning, Dean tried Sam's with the same result. Then, just in an attempt to find some sort of use for the phone, he tried calling Sam's instead. To his surprise, the spare phone began to blare loudly in his hand.

"Great." Dean muttered to himself, sliding both phones into his jeans pockets. "So I can call Sam. Wherever the fuck he is."

Making up his mind to find his brother and work out what was going on, Dean got to his feet and left the room. He found himself in a narrow landing with only one other door which was firmly closed. He couldn't hear any noise coming from the room beyond, so he made his way down a rickety wooden staircase, finding himself in a spacious room with two bookcases overflowing with books. To his left was a door with a window beside it, through which Dean could see more grassland and a patch of woodland. And walking away from that, his arms full of logs, was Sam.

Dean surged out of the building and ran to meet his brother, feeling marginally better now that he found someone he recognised. But when Sam froze upon spotting him, looked him up and down and then burst out laughing, alarm bells began to ring in Dean's head.

"What's so funny?" He asked defensively.

"Is there some new fashion I've yet to hear about, Dean?" Sam asked, still grinning.

"What?" Dean muttered, then noticed what his brother was wearing. Gone were his flannel shirts, jacket and jeans. Instead, he wore a white cotton shirt with a black belt around his waist, and black trousers that vanished into the tops of shin-high worn boots. "Sam, what's going on here? Where are we?"

Sam continued to snigger, readjusting the way he was holding the logs. "Too long at the ale last night, hm?" Then, still chuckling and shaking his head, Sam walked past Dean and vanished into the house.

Dean was about to follow him and question him further, when he heard a sound that sent every one of his instincts lighting up on red alert.

"Glad to see you're finally awake, Dean."

The hunter spun on his heel and blanched. John Winchester was standing by the door of the house, his arms crossed over his chest and an amused smile on his face. Dean opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure of what to say or do. He had no weapons on him of any kind, and yet John wasn't blurring at the edges or attacking like a ghost normally would. He was dressed similarly to Sam, except he had a quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder and thick-looking leather gloves on his hands.

"Well, don't just stand there, boy." John ordered, inclining his head towards the door. "You've got to come watch Sam while I go into town. And make sure he doesn't blow up the house again." And with that, laughing at what Dean assumed was a joke, John turned and vanished back into the house.

"Yes, sir." Dean found himself whispering on nothing but impulse, his feet automatically carrying him back the way he'd come.

He felt physically sick, but what else was he supposed to do? He'd have to get as much as he could out of this alternate-dimension Sam, but not John. He supposed it was his hunter's instinct mixed in with his own personal feelings, but he just didn't want to talk to his father again if he could help it. It left him feeling hollow and crushed, and brought up a lot of things he'd much rather forget about.

He had to get out of here, but in order to do that, he had to find out just where 'here' was.

* * *

Bobby struck the match and dropped it into the bowl, positive the summoning wasn't going to work. He hadn't spoken to the demon in months, but right now he was stuck and he needed help. And Crowley had made it clear the last time they had met that he would always be around to ask for his professional opinion. But Bobby still didn't trust him, understandably, and he'd made _that_ crystal clear.

So it was met with great shock when he turned and saw Crowley standing just behind him, hands placed in the pockets of his dark blazer. "You rang, darling?" He spoke with his usual satirical, thick accent, complete with smirk.

Bobby scowled. "Much as it pains me to say, I need your help."

"Oh? Your boys set the fuse for yet another apocalypse?"

"They've been taken by an angel. Cas and Gabriel, too."

Crowley's eyebrows rose. "That's quite a dilemma."

"Yeah. Last thing I know was they came here." Bobby gestured to the run-down interior of the house around them and Crowley followed his movements carefully. "Then they've vanished just like the others. You sense anything?"

The demon slowly nodded, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Definitely the work of another of your feathered friends; this whole place reeks of angel. Let me take a look around."

Before Bobby could say a word, Crowley vanished. The elder hunter huffed out an irritated breath of air, before gathering up the equipment he'd used to summon Crowley. He'd set it up in an upstairs room of the house, remembering what Sam had said about the main room downstairs being where most of the angelic vibes were coming from. He honestly didn't know how or even if Crowley could help him, but he was out of options. He needed the opinion of someone that wasn't human, that could see the angel's movements better than he could, and Crowley was the only logical option as both of their respective angel resources had also vanished.

A moment later, Crowley reappeared. In his arms he held a thick book. Unlike everything else in the house that was coated with dust, the book was so clean it practically shone. Its cover was a rich scarlet, the pages crisp and white. A golden ribbon used to mark your place hung from the underneath of the cover, fluttering in the wake of the demon's transportation.

"What the hell is _that_?"

Crowley shrugged, handing Bobby the book. It was heavy in his hands and the cover felt strangely warm. "Beats me. I just found it lying in the middle of the floor downstairs. Best guess is the angel left it there."

"Why would it do that?" Bobby asked sceptically.

"You think I understand how their brains work?" Crowley asked with a deep frown.

Bobby mirrored the demon's expression, before opening the cover, unable to prepare himself for what he saw. An intricate, detailed picture was at the very top of the page, and beneath that was ornate, swirling writing, almost like a storybook. But it was the picture that had grabbed Bobby's attention most. It was split in two; one half showed Gabriel looking enraged with what looked like a _mermaid's_ tail, and the other Sam staring out to sea from a window above a bed.

"What the hell..?"

He hastily read the wording beneath the picture; all about Gabriel's interaction with merman versions of Castiel and Balthazar, and Sam's talk with Dean, Adam and his father. Bobby hastily flipped to the next page and saw another picture. This, too, was split in half. One section showed Dean looking both angry and confused while Sam laughed at him, while the other only depicted an elongated shadow along a stone wall, making it impossible to make out exactly what it was. The writing underneath this was much smaller than the previous pages, and described Dean's encounter with his father and brother.

"This is what's happening to them now." The hunter muttered to himself.

"What? You're telling me that book is showing you what's happened? Where are they?"

Bobby shook his head. "I dunno. It doesn't say." As he spoke, he tried to flip to the next page, but the paper wouldn't budge. It was almost as if it had turned to stone, but he could still move the first few pages freely. "And I can't get to the rest of this damn book."

Crowley shrugged and then spoke in an overly serious tone. "Well, that'd be a spoiler."

Bobby glared acidly at the demon, who grinned. "This isn't funny."

"No, you're right. Finding out that your boys and their angels have been sucked into a book," Crowley paused to sneak a glance at the pages, and his smirk grew, "And that one of them is now a merman isn't funny. At all."

Bobby closed the book with a snap and scowled. "Are you going to help me figure this out or not?"

Crowley shrugged. "Only if I'm allowed to laugh. Because darling, this _is_ funny."


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was sat at a circular table in the basement of the house shortly afterwards, staring blankly at possibly the weirdest contraption in the world. It was made up of various bits of metal, each a different length and colour. What looked like a furnace was attached to a metal beam that ended in an axe on a joint, allowing it to swing back and forth. A chair sat behind the furnace beside an assortment of gears and levers. And stood beside this, grinning broadly, was Sam.

He was explaining just how the machine he had invented worked with so much pride in his voice, Dean actually made an effort to look interested and like he was following what Sam was saying to the letter. It was like having a much younger version of Sam but in his adult body around again. It was rather odd, to say the least. But Dean found that, in a way, he liked it. Sam had never wanted to choose the hunting life, and he'd run from it for as long as he could. This version of Sam was proof of what his younger brother could have been, had Yellow Eyes never come to them.

"So, what do you think, Dean?" Sam asked suddenly, still beaming.

"Huh?" The hunter replied eloquently. Being so caught up in his own musings, he'd been completely ignoring what Sam had been saying. Sam however, only huffed out a laugh and shook his head, apparently all too used to this behaviour.

"My wood-cutter; do you think it'll win?"

"Win? Win what?"

Now Sam sighed and shook his head. "The _inventor's_ _fair_, Dean. You know? The one I entered and have been working towards for months now?"

"Oh, _right_." Dean lied smoothly, nodding. "Sorry Sammy, late night and all." He scrubbed a hand down his face and re-emerged grinning. "Yeah, I think you're definitely in with a shot." That was when something occurred to him. "Hey, d'you think you can take a look at this?" And he fished both phones from his pocket, laying them on the wooden tabletop. If Sam was an inventor, maybe he could work out why the phones would only allow calls and messages to one another.

The moment phone's screen became illuminated; an expression of sheer wonder and awe took over Sam's face. He scrambled forwards, scooping up his own phone from the table and admired it with nothing short of reverence, almost like he currently held all answers to the world's secrets in his palm. Dean had to resist the almost-overwhelming temptation to call from his phone, just to see how high his brother would probably jump.

"This is _incredible_, Dean!" Sam said, experimentally jabbing his thumb on a button and jumping when something on the screen changed. "Where on earth did you _get_ these?"

"Uhh.." Dean began awkwardly because seriously, what the heck was he supposed to say? '_Oh, just from the future where I was with another version of you, where we hunt monsters and have a working partnership with two angels and the King of Hell_'. Yeah. Right. But Sam was now looking at him with suspicion in his eyes, so he obviously had to say _something_. "I found 'em. Last night." It was pitiful at best, but the best he could come up at that moment.

"You _found_ them?" Sam repeated sceptically, now eyeing the phone in his hand like a potential bomb.

"Yes Sam, I found them. What, you think I stole them or something?"

It worked. Sam started like he'd been electrocuted, and shook his head wildly. "No, of course not! I.. It's just.. Well, I've never seen anything like these things before. Where on earth did you _find_ them?"

"What's with the third degree, huh? Just take the damn thing."

Sam's look of confusion changed to shock and then to awe in the space of a few seconds. Then, looking from Dean to the phone in his hand with the beaming smile back in place, he cried, "Are you serious?"

For the first time since he'd woken up, Dean felt a grin breaking out on his face. "Yeah, I'm serious. Take it." He'd sneak the thing away again somehow when he had to leave to get back to his original dimension, wherever the hell that even _was_, but until then this Sam could hold onto it.

But getting back to his own dimension was going to be a real problem. Gabriel had worked out that the angel had been luring them there; Dean had heard him screaming something about a trap to Sam. And when he was next conscious, it was to find that he had been catapulted years back into the past with no Sam, no angels, and pretty much no hope. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. And he had to start his search _somewhere_. His main priority right now was finding either Castiel or, as much as he hated to admit it, Gabriel. At least one of them could help figure out this clusterfuck of a day.

So Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, and spoke. "Hey, Sammy. You wouldn't happen to have seen Cas anywhere, would you?"

He wasn't sure what reaction to have been expecting. There was only a slim chance this Sam would even know who 'Cas' was, and even then there was no guarantee that he would be the Castiel Dean knew. The more likely option was that this Sam wouldn't have a clue who Dean was talking about, and he'd be back to square one. But what hadn't crossed Dean's mind at all was for Sam to go paper white, for his eyes to fly open and for him to look at Dean like he'd grown a second head.

"Are you _insane_?!" He whispered, and Dean was alarmed to hear a definite note of panic in his voice.

"_What_?"

"You are out of your _mind_, Dean!" Sam hissed, getting to his feet and backing away hurriedly as if Dean was highly infectious. "Talking about that.. That.. That _thing_ like the two of you are friends!"

Dean instantly bristled, angry at Sam's derogatory manner. "I'm talking about him like he's my friend _because_ he's my friend, jackass." He snapped. "I need to find him, Sammy! Where the hell is he?"

But Sam was shaking his head. "That's not funny, Dean." And with a slam of the door behind him, Dean was left sat at the table in confused, irritated silence.

* * *

Gabriel broke the surface of the water as slowly as possible, trying not to draw attention to himself, sticking as close to the side of the ship as he could. Castiel had pointed it out to him with a warning of caution, before he and Balthazar backed off, not willing to risk being spotted by humans. But Sam was somewhere on that ship and Gabriel had to find him, regardless of the risk. The vessel had come to a halt, giving the archangel the perfect opportunity to glide along its side, searching for a way up. Now that he was above water, Gabriel could hear voices and laughter, as well as music.

He had almost completed a circuit of the ship when he spotted a life boat hanging a little lower than the others. Gripping the sides of the boat, Gabriel attempted to heave himself in with as little splashing as possible. He didn't want to alert the humans aboard to his presence, knowing how well they usually reacted to supernatural creatures. Despite everything else in this crazy world being so back to front and upside down, natural human fear was something that would remain as strong as ever, he was certain. And he highly doubted seeing merpeople was commonplace.

With a lot of effort which he wasn't used to exerting, Gabriel managed to haul himself into the lifeboat. He lay on the cold wooden surface for a moment or two, the fins of his tail draped over the edge, breathing hard. Physical labour was _definitely_ something he wouldn't miss when he had his Grace back. The noise of the party raging above was much clearer now, and Gabriel could see flashing lights in his peripheral vision.

Rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up with his hands, Gabriel turned to investigate. A porthole was positioned just above his head, and through it he could see the shadows of many figures dancing. Ignoring the thud of apprehension in the pit of his stomach, he placed his hands on the wooden frame of the porthole, and used this as leverage to haul himself up high enough to peer through it.

Huddled around the edges were groups of men, talking, singing and laughing with one another. Gabriel instantly spotted Dean with his arm slung around the shoulders of a slightly shorter man with the same dark hair, smirking and swigging something out of a bottle. The stance was too relaxed for him to be the annoying, crass Winchester that Gabriel knew, so he moved on. It took two sweeps of the deck to spot him but there, huddled away in the shadows, was Sam. He looked highly uncomfortable with the whole party atmosphere, and as Gabriel watched, he shot Dean and the other boy furtive glances on no less than four occasions.

"It's really you, isn't it, Kiddo?" Gabriel muttered to himself, lowering his body back into the lifeboat to give his aching arms a rest.

Now all he had to do was get Sam's attention somehow. If he'd had his Grace, it wouldn't have been an issue; he'd have just zapped himself over to where Sam was. But obviously, he couldn't just drag himself onto the deck and approach the younger Winchester directly. Pushing a hand through his hair in frustration, Gabriel spotted movement beneath the water a moment before Balthazar's head broke the surface.

"How's it going, bro?" He asked, nodding towards the deck.

"Gotta get Sam's attention somehow." Gabriel replied with an irritated frown. "And I don't think flopping onto the deck like this will work."

Balthazar's face immediately paled. "Well, of course it wouldn't. Unless you're looking for a spear in the neck, that is."

Gabriel sighed, and nodded. So his suspicions about humans and merpeople had been right, after all. "Any suggestions, then?"

"Yeah, and a word of advice. Don't hit him too hard." Balthazar replied before shoving several tiny, wet stones into Gabriel's hand and disappearing into the darkening gloom of the sea once more.

With a shake of his head, Gabriel hefted himself up to the porthole once more. Sam was right where he had left him, looking downright miserable. Taking careful aim, Gabriel launched one of the stones across the deck. It flew through the air and came to a stop just short of the hunter. He heard the clattering noise and glanced up, but decided it wasn't worth his attention and cast his gaze to his boots once more. Gabriel tried again, but this one sailed past Sam completely and landed in the sea behind him.

"Son of a.." The archangel muttered, now getting frustrated.

On his third attempt his aim was true. The stone struck Sam on his shin and he jumped, looking up and down for the thrower, scowl now firmly in place. Gabriel remained framed by the porthole, praying that Sam would notice him before someone else did. Sam's eyes swept straight past him at first, before Gabriel saw the hunter freeze and hastily backtrack. For a moment, they stared at one another just as their brothers so often did, before Gabriel's hand slipped on the wooden edge and he fell with a thud back into the lifeboat.

"_Ow_.." He muttered angrily under his breath, rubbing the small of his back which had jarred at the sudden impact.

"Gabriel? Is that _you_? I mean, is that really you?"

The archangel flung his head back and peered up. Sam was leant over the edge of the ship, squinting down at him, so he raised a hand. "Hey Sammy. And yeah, it's me. The archangel that told you this whole thing was a damn trap, and _now_ look where we are."

Sam's expression turned miserable once more. "I'm sorry about this Gabe, I really am."

Gabriel sighed. "Not your fault, Kiddo. We'll work this out."

"Yeah, I know we -" Sam began, then paused as he leant further over the edge. "Gabriel.. Is that..? Have you got..?"

The archangel changed the angle he was sitting at, so that his tail flopped over the edge of the lifeboat. "Yeah, it's a tail. Whoever's behind this is going to _pay_ for turning me into a merman."

Sam swallowed heavily, only just stopping himself from saying that the sight of the shirtless archangel wasn't exactly a bad one. "So.. So it's definitely not you that's behind this, then?"

Gabriel could only gape for a moment or two, before flapping his tail and pointing at the offending limb. "Note the fins, Sammy! Why would I do _this_ to myself?!"

"I know, sorry, I just thought it was a prank or something. Just had to check."

"Sammy! _There_ you are! What are you looking at?" Dean's voice rang out from just behind Sam.

The hunter's expression drained of all colour, and when he spoke his tone had turned to an urgent hiss. "_Go_!"

Gabriel didn't really need telling twice. Rather unceremoniously, he slid the whole way out of the boat, landed with a splash and swam down towards the sand as fast as his new tail could carry him. As an archangel he was practically immortal when it came to the Winchester's capabilities. But that didn't mean his new merman body was as difficult to kill. Hell, could be as easy as sticking a perfectly normal blade in his gut. And he sure as hell wasn't waiting around to find out. At least evening had begun to fall, and the new darkness offered him a blanket to hide in. Because now that he had found Sam, he wasn't about to let him go.

* * *

Bobby was trying to focus on the book, but having a demon sniggering over his shoulder _really_ wasn't helping.

After leaving the house pretty sharpish, he'd driven back to Sam and Dean's motel room and set up his own investigation there. Ever since, he'd tried and failed to get the book to open past what he'd already read. It wasn't until Crowley appeared to check on progress that the book emitted a faint glow and the next two pages reverted from their stone-like state. Both he and Crowley had read the latest entries, and it was afterwards that the demon's laughter had started.

"You wanna share the joke?" Bobby snarled, patience having long since snapped.

"Well, just look at the situation you have here, love." He said, still grinning. "One of your boys has had his angel viewed as some kind of monster by everyone else he knows, except him. And now the other is a prince with a _little merman_ tagging along after him?"

Crowley then studied him like he expected Bobby to have a sudden epiphany about what was so hilarious about that, but the older hunter's scowl only deepened. "Yeah, and your point is?"

"Bloody hell, Singer, you really haven't had a life outside of hunting the nasty things in the night, have you?" Crowley sighed with mock exasperation and ignored the acidic glare Bobby now shot him. "Don't these all sound just a little bit familiar? In this case, a merman and a human? Or a man and what everyone else considers a monster? More specifically a _beast_? Someone's trapped your precious boys in a bloody fairy tale!"


	7. Chapter 7

Several beats of silence followed Crowley's proclamation, broken only when Bobby placed the book back onto the motel's table. The hunter was frowning deeply over at the demon, his eyes portraying his obvious scepticism, arms folded over his chest. Finally, he spoke in an utterly deadpanned tone that did next to nothing to hide just what he thought of Crowley's suggestion.

"Fairy tales."

Crowley shrugged, hands resting in the pockets of his blazer. "If you've got a better suggestion, love, let's hear it."

Without waiting for an answer, the demon swept across the room to Sam's bed, gathering up the missing persons reports. He slapped them onto the table just in front of the hunter before retreating and replacing his hands in his blazer, waiting. Still looking highly cynical, Bobby flipped open each of the folders and read through the details of each disappearance. His expression didn't change until he opened the one containing Lea Osmond's details. He performed a rather comical double-take, and then wrenched the book open again, ignoring the way Crowley's lips twitched into a triumphant smirk.

"_Balls_." Bobby muttered as he stared at the image of Gabriel pointing angrily at his tail while a speechless Sam peered at him over the edge of a ship.

"You're a man of many words, darling." Crowley said dryly with a slight shake of his head.

The hunter ignored him once again. "But why would anyone want to stick those idjits in two _fairy tales_?"

"My best guess is that they pissed off someone pretty powerful, although they don't seem to be in much danger. In any other circumstance, I'd blame him." The demon gestured towards the Gabriel in the picture. "But either he's a phenomenal actor, or -"

"Or it's another angel." Bobby finished, using the golden ribbon to mark the page before closing the book with a snap. "And Sam already tried asking him. I think we can safely rule him out, and I can't see Feathers trying this any time this century. Well, great. That _really_ narrows it down."

Crowley shook his head. "Would it kill your boys to involve themselves in cases that resemble situations that are _less_ like needles in a stack of needles every once in a while?" And with a sarcastic salute in Bobby's direction, he vanished.

* * *

It was fully dark when Gabriel felt it was safe enough to return to the surface. Sam was no longer by the edge where they had last spoken, and the archangel was surprised to feel a jolt of disappointment at that. Which was ridiculous. What had he been expecting? To find the hunter waiting for him, so they could talk more? How exactly would _that_ help? But talking with Sam, no matter how briefly, had succeeded in one thing; he felt strangely more at ease than he had before. Yes, he was still stuck with a stupid tail and without his Grace, but now he had found someone he knew and recognised. It was.. Comforting.

And wow, just how far from his glory had he already fallen? He was no better than a child, clinging to their parent.

A loud rumble high above his head caught his attention. Dragging his eyes away from the ship, Gabriel turned his gaze skywards instead. The dark clouds were rolling wildly high above him, heavy with rain. Several flashes lit up the murky areas inside them, and a harsh wind had sprung up. It whistled around him where he bobbed in the now choppy water, chilling his now much weaker body to the bone.

Gabriel felt and involuntary shudder pass through him as the first rumble of thunder rang out in the distance; a heavy, loud roar that struck something at the very centre of Gabriel's chest. He had always detested storms, particularly the ones that filled the world up with noise. The sound just affected him in a way that was hitting a little _too_ close to home. Because in that moment he was back in Heaven, listening once again to the very thing that had driven him from it in the first place; Michael and Lucifer screaming at one another. Thunder always reminded him of his elder brothers' voices.

In an attempt to distract himself, Gabriel turned his attention back to the ship once more. Just above the thunder, he could hear the sounds of many pairs of feet rushing around, but it didn't sound like the party atmosphere he had listened in on before. There was urgency and panic in the men's shouts now as the sails were raised, their pounding footsteps on the deck as they hurried about A burly-looking man was shouting orders to the crew, but his voice was being buffeted by the wind and drowned out by the thunder, making it impossible for the archangel-come-merman to hear what was being said.

With a particularly loud clap of thunder, the heavens finally opened. Rain began to pour in seemingly endless icy torrents, caught by the wind and sending it flying in all directions. The pitch black sky became illuminated by the sudden flashes of lightning that sprung free, spearing down towards the ocean in their jagged bright lines. As one struck particularly close to the ship, the cabin door was flung open and Gabriel spotted the unmistakeable mop of dark hair and Gigantor figure of Sam Winchester.

"What the _hell_ are you doing, Kiddo?" Gabriel muttered to himself.

The man who had been bellowing orders before seemed to share Gabriel's sentiment. Even though the noise of the storm was still too great for him to hear what was being said, both men were gesticulating clearly enough for their messages to be crystal clear. The man was physically trying to shove Sam backwards whilst jabbing his index finger back towards the door the hunter had just burst through, but Sam was shaking his head and refusing to budge.

In the next five seconds, all hell broke loose.

First, a bolt of lightning forked its way straight into one of the sails, which instantly caught fire. As the flames began to spread at a furious pace, the deck became suddenly full of men shouting and running for the boats that Gabriel had taken refuge in only minutes beforehand. He scanned each one carefully, looking for Sam, but the young Winchester was still by the edge, ushering others on before himself.

"Get off that thing, Sammy!" Gabriel snarled under his breath, trying to ignore the horrible roiling in his stomach.

As the first of the lifeboats began to be lowered into the churning water, a loud creaking caught the archangel's attention. The fire had already spread to the mast, which was cracking. It teetered for a moment, before falling with an almighty crash through the middle of the deck where the fire continued to spread hungrily. Whatever crew members still aboard, Sam included, were thrown off their feet by the impact.

The other lifeboats had already been tugged a fair distance away from the ship by the powerful waves, making them useless as rescue vessels. And unless Sam got his sorry backside off that ship soon, it was going to be wholly consumed by the fire. Gabriel forgot all about how the other humans would try and spear him the moment they lay eyes on him. He forgot how vulnerable and weak his new body was. He forgot that he wasn't supposed to care about the hunter. All he could see was Sam struggling to his feet, hacking and coughing, flames licking at the wood near his boots.

Gabriel had gone no further forwards than a few yards when the ship blew apart from a lower level, scattering flaming wood in all directions with an accompaniment of bright, vivid colours and bangs. Only just in time Gabriel dived into the water to avoid the initial explosion, before quickly returning to the surface, a very heavy feeling growing in his chest. Before him was a scene of anarchy. There were only bundles of flaming wood left on the surface of the water, already drifting away on the powerful waves. The sky was tainted red with the fire, and the heat felt almost painful on his face.

"Sam!" Gabriel screamed, swimming right into the centre of the debris, searching urgently for any sign of the hunter. There was no reply. "_Sam_!" He tried again, but still nothing. He twisted frantically in the water, eyes scanning every bundle of wood, desperate for a glimpse of something human. "_SAM_!"

He was halfway through another turn when he spotted a flash of skin amongst the flaming wood; a hand sinking into the water. Without hesitation, Gabriel dived underwater and – _thank Dad_ – there, unconscious, was Sam. Relief unlike any other Gabriel could remember feeling gripped him, and the heavy sensation that had been weighing him down suddenly vanished when he grabbed the human and felt his heartbeat still pumping a steady rhythm. Winding his arms around Sam's chest, Gabriel tugged him back to the surface, thankful for his powerful tail for the first time since acquiring it.

* * *

"Come on, Sam. Open your eyes." Gabriel ordered.

The hunter lay on a sandy beach with the archangel leaning above him, tail tucked up underneath him where his legs would normally go. Gabriel had carried the unconscious Winchester through the stormy weather, going in the same direction the ship had been heading in when he'd first found it. Before long, he'd found land; a stretch of white sandy beach backed by a sheer cliff, with a grand looking castle in the distance.

"Sam, come _on_. Wake up."

But the younger Winchester's eyes remained closed, his mouth slightly open as he breathed low and deep. If it weren't for the fact Sam was breathing, Gabriel would have been in the middle of a full-scale panic by now. After all, he was used to being able to heal injuries with a single touch. He simply didn't _know_ how to deal with somebody who had almost drowned, only that if they weren't breathing it was a very bad sign. Yet, despite respiring quite normally, Sam just wasn't coming to.

"Sam!" Gabriel had now resorted to shouting at him.

Despite how much he hated to admit it, he needed Dean's help. Dean _knew_ how to deal with stuff like this. Dean would be able to help Sam. After skinning Gabriel alive for allowing his brother to get into such a situation, of course. Gabriel curled his hands into fists in frustration. He hated feeling this damn helpless, dammit! He hated being useless!

"Sam, I swear to Dad, if you don't wake up _pronto_, I'm going to -"

But he trailed off, because just _what_ was he going to do, exactly? Gabriel uncurled his fists, and then laid his head against the Winchester's chest, ignoring the wet press of his soaked to the skin shirt. The sound of the human's steady heartbeat was slightly reassuring. In his current body, Gabriel was worse than useless in any sort of situation, save for swimming. If Sam died in this world, there'd be nothing Gabriel could do about it. Hearing Sam's heartbeat reminded Gabriel that the hunter wasn't going anywhere just yet.

"Come on, Sammy. If you die on me, it's just going to be me and our brothers. And I don't have your patience. All that eye-fucking? Yeah, you can keep that to yourself; I'll pass thanks. You can't leave me with those two chuckleheads; I'll go nuts."

He felt the slightest vibration run through Sam's chest at that, and he sat up. Sam's eyes were open the tiniest crack, and a small, rather dazed smile curled his mouth. "S'all about you, right Gabe?" He said slowly, voice croaky and weak.

Gabriel couldn't help it. Immense relief bubbled up inside him, and he felt a wide grin breaking out onto his face as he shrugged casually. "Naturally. How you feeling, Kiddo?" The concern was so plain in his tone; Gabriel couldn't help but grimace a little. But Sam didn't seem to notice; he was still wavering on the edge of consciousness, which Gabriel was thankful for. After all, he reasoned silently to himself, he _didn't_ care about Sam's welfare. Yes, the kid was okay. Yes, he was better than his brother, although that wasn't saying much. But that didn't mean Gabriel actually _cared_. It was just because without Sam, he'd be left in this crazy place all by himself. Yep. That was _totally_ the _only_ reason his relief was still extreme.

Before Sam could answer, there came a shout of the hunter's name from further down the beach. Gabriel threw his head up and resisted the almost overwhelming temptation to swear. Dean was easily recognisable despite his distance, and he was coming right towards them. Throwing Sam an apologetic look, Gabriel twisted on his tail and launched himself back into the sea, swimming to a nearby rock which he hid behind and peered out from. On the shore, Dean had reached Sam and was helping him to sit up; he was obviously still very weak.

"Gabriel."

The archangel started and placed himself fully behind the rock, pressing his bare back to the cold stone. Balthazar floated in the water just behind him, looking uncharacteristically serious. As Gabriel watched, the blonde's gaze flicked to Sam – who was being half carried along the beach by Dean – and then back again. His expression didn't soften any. In fact, if anything, it intensified.

"Our Father wishes to see you."

Gabriel was so shocked by the revelation that their Father was actually _there_ that he just followed Balthazar underwater without a single question. But he did give Sam one last glance over his shoulder just before disappearing under the surface, just in case. But it wasn't because he cared. It _wasn't_.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm not exactly thrilled with how this one turned out, but I couldn't think of any sort of alternative way of writing it, and I hadn't updated for a while, so yeah.. I hope you guys enjoy this all the same ^_^''

Oh, and a massive thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed and faved so far :) You guys make me want to keep writing, despite how much Uni is trying to crush my spirit xD I'll try and get the next chapter up as soon as I can, but I really can't say when that'll be. Maybe over Easter? I'll try and get it done before that, but there's a lot on my plate right now, so I just don't know.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean stayed in the basement for a long time after Alternative-Reality-Sam had left, trying to gather his clusterfuck of thoughts. Honestly, it was a miracle he was still thinking clearly, given his situation. He deserved a little time to recover.

So he was stranded somewhere in the past if the lack of technology and clothing style was anything to go by. It also seemed that some version of Castiel was somewhere close by, although if Sam's reaction to hearing his name was any indication, he wasn't the Castiel that Dean knew; he wasn't _Cas_. But it was a start, and finding this Castiel _could_ be a step in the right direction of finding his way back to his own timeline. From there he could contact Bobby and together they could track down Sam and Castiel, and at a pinch _maybe_ Gabriel, before then getting the angel-hunt on. But first things first; he had to get out of here.

When he finally re-emerged, it was to discover Sam and John outside, strapping a tall chestnut-coloured horse to a small cart. Dean barely supressed a shudder at the sight; his hunting instincts flared every time his father came near, and he had to wrestle with himself not to go for the nearest weapon. Sam looked up as he approached and shot him a rather apprehensive look, but otherwise gave no hint to what they had discussed earlier. John at any rate didn't seem to notice a thing, and told Dean to check that make sure everything was securely attached while he and Sam went to carry the wood-cutter outside.

As soon as the heel of Sam's boots vanished back into the house, Dean turned his gaze sky-ward and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew it was a long shot, but at that moment he was willing to try anything. "I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass here."

Nothing happened.

"C'mon Cas, I know you're here somewhere."

Nothing but the neighing of the horse before him answered. No flapping wings, no gravelly voice from behind him in direct violation of his personal space, no Cas. Which could mean either of two things. One, Castiel wasn't actually there, and the thing Sam was so scared of was just another addition to this bizarre dimension. Or two, Castiel _was_ here somewhere, and stuck. Either way, Dean wasn't going to get an answer by standing there, shouting at thin air. Unless..

"Alright, jackass." He began angrily, now turning on the spot to survey his surroundings. "I know one of you feathered dicks is behind this, and you have freaky-ass ways of teaching lessons. That what this is? Another lesson? Well, I ain't got time to waste here. Just come and tell me what the point of all this is, where you've zapped Cas off to, and how the hell we can get out of here."

But once again, nothing but silence answered him. Dean only had time to mutter a curse under his breath before John and Sam reappeared, struggling with the weight of the haphazard invention. Abandoning the horse, Dean hurried over to help and between them they managed to heave the contraption into the cart. Once it had been secured, John clapped a hand on Sam's back, wished him luck and then headed back to the house. He swung another quiver of arrows that had been propped against the wall over his shoulder, waved once at them, before taking the winding path towards a small village in the distance.

"Where's he going?" The question slipped out through Dean's lips before he could stop it, and if the disbelieving look Sam shot him was any indication, it was clear he was now getting suspicious.

"Where he _always_ goes, Dean."

The hunter steeled himself before asking, "And that's where, exactly?"

Sam frowned heavily at him as he mounted the horse and took up the reins. "He's going hunting. For that _thing_. Like everyone else in this town has been doing for years. Like _you_ were going to while I was gone."

"Oh." Dean muttered, feeling an uncomfortably heavy weight become lodged in his chest. _Cas was in danger_. "They uh.. They find anything about.. About _it_?"

"Not yet. They haven't found its hideout yet, but it's only a matter of time." As he spoke, Sam pulled the horse around to take the opposite track to the one their father had walked. "Be careful, okay Dean?"

The hunter nodded, grim smile in place. "Yeah, you too, Sammy. And good luck."

For the first time since he'd pocketed the phone in the basement, a smile broke out on Sam's face. "It's Sam." He then gave the horse a gentle kick, and they set off along the path, leaving Dean feeling worse than before.

Castiel was being hunted by these people, his father included. And if his father was half the hunter he had been in reality, angel or not it wouldn't be long before Castiel's 'hideout' was discovered. It was clear what Dean had to do; he had to find it first. But just how he was going to find a place that had apparently been elusive to a great number of hunters for years was a mystery to him.

* * *

By the time night fell, it was safe to say that Sam was inching towards a full-scale panic.

Growing up with Dean and his father, one a greatly renowned hunter and the other well on his way to being the same, he knew he should feel utterly at home in the woods even in the dark. But Sam had never found the same taste for hunting that the other two had, preferring instead to tinker with bits and pieces in his room or in the basement, something that his father especially had never understood. And it wasn't like John was forcing hunting on his boys unnecessarily; Sam understood full well why it was important to have that kind of skill where they lived.

He and Dean had both grown up hearing gruesome stories about what called the woods just beyond their house home. All night long Sam could hear the howls of wolves from his bedroom window, and the stories about men, women and children who had wandered too far and were never seen again were rife in their little village. But the biggest threat came from the beast. It had been spotted by a handful of people, all of whom would only stutter in terror about a darkened castle and something with _wings_. It was enough incentive for John Winchester to ensure both his boys knew how to protect themselves.

This meant that despite his protests, Sam had always been taken on the odd hunt, so it wasn't unusual for him to be in the woods at night. But he'd never travelled so deeply in alone or so late before, he was tugging a large and clumsy cart behind him which kept bumping on the roots adorning the path which greatly slowed his progress, and the darkness had made what should have been a simple route complicated and difficult.

So under the circumstances, his growing panic was utterly justified.

He only received a split second's warning in the form of a loud and ferocious-sounding howl before a wolf leapt out of the shadows onto the path right before him. Its deep grey fur was matted and dirtied underneath, its great paws heavy and large on the hardened ground, ending in vicious-looking claws. Its mouth was set in a snarl, baring every one of its pointed yellow teeth, amber eyes alive with malice.

As a second wolf leapt out to join the first at a much closer proximity, the horse beneath Sam reared with a frightened whinny, and in his own terror he was too late to tighten his grip on the reigns. With a yelp, he tumbled out of the saddle and landed with a bump near the edge of the path. Clearly scared out of its wits, the horse then turned and galloped away, leaving Sam utterly alone and living one of his worst nightmares. He was unable to prevent the whimper of fear from escaping him, and in doing so alerted the two hungry beasts to his presence.

With a second snarl, the closest wolf leapt at him, mouth opening to show off those horrible teeth. Sam scrambled backwards, desperately groping for something, _anything_ that could help him. His fingers curled around a branch lying on the leaf-strewn ground just as he could feel the animal's breath on his face, and he smashed it around the head as hard as he could. As it stumbled back, dazed, Sam staggered to his feet and plunged into the trees behind him, keeping a tight hold on his new weapon. All around him, he could hear what sounded like a whole pack of approaching wolves, all ravenous and _hunting him_.

Panting and already sporting a stitch in his side, for the first time Sam cursed his decision against hunting. If only he'd listened a little better to his father or to Dean whenever they'd taken him along before, he might have a clearer idea of how to survive a situation like this. He'd have taken a better weapon with him and thus be more protected, he'd be fitter and more used to running along the uneven forest floor, and he'd know how to defend himself from a wolf attack. Instead, he couldn't see a way out of this that ended in anything but his own bloody death.

As this thought entered his mind, the branches to his right burst apart as yet another wolf leapt into view, aiming its bite at his legs. Sam swerved his body at the last moment, bringing the branch down, but this time the animal dodged rather easily out of harm's way. The branch collided with the ground hard, and the resulting impact sent a horrible jarring sensation sweeping up Sam's arm. With a cry of pain he was forced to drop his only weapon. Clutching at his elbow as it continued to throb, Sam backed away, terrified eyes fixed on the malevolent bronze gaze of the now approaching wolf.

Sam had just reached level with the trees when the ground suddenly vanished from underneath his boots. With a scream of fear and shock he fell backwards and hit a muddy verge with an impact so sharp, it forced all the air from his lungs in one go. The world began to spiral and blur uncontrollably as he tumbled backwards; any attempt to stop his progress by throwing out his arms only led to pain as the limbs banged into the hard winter ground, so he tucked his body up and just let himself roll. He finally came to a stop when he hit a stone path _hard_, his leg beneath him. He knew the extent of the damage as soon as he heard the crack; the intense pain that followed immediately after only confirmed it. He was running for his life, and he'd managed to _break his leg_.

Vision hazing from his dizziness and the agony in his leg, Sam forced himself to stand on his good foot. That alone nearly made him keel back over again; his leg screamed in protest, and he staggered, almost falling. But then he spotted something looming out of the darkness just ahead. He didn't know if it was his imagination or not, but he was sure he could just about make out a set of wrought-iron gates a short distance along the path.

His common sense was screaming at him that it was _far_ from a good idea to break into a property in the middle of the _woods_, but he'd sooner take whoever lived on the other side of those gates than the wolves behind him. The wolves meant certain, undeniable death. Whoever lived in this place, if indeed anyone did, _could_ save his life. At least until his father or Dean found him.

Dragging his broken leg along the stone almost made him pass out, but the quickly approaching howls just behind him was plenty of incentive to keep going. The gates were thankfully unlocked and _real_; Sam only just managed to force himself through and slam them shut again before the wolves had swarmed onto the path on the other side. They prowled up and down for a while, glinting eyes fixed angrily on their prey, before one by one they vanished back into the trees.

And with the knowledge that for now he was safe, the adrenalin began to seep from his body, and Sam allowed himself to crumple as he lost consciousness. Just before the blissful peace of oblivion, though, he could have _sworn_ he heard voices, although there had been nobody around a few minutes beforehand.

"Looks like a human. What do we do with it?"

"He's hurt! What should we do?"

"Let's get him inside. You know the boss; he'll want to help."

* * *

All too soon Sam felt consciousness leaking back into his body. He stirred, feeling the comfortable give of something soft beneath his body rather than the hard stone of when he had collapsed. He jolted awake in an instant, instincts flaring back into life, and let out a whine of pain almost immediately afterwards. Agony had shot through his body at his sudden movement from his leg, which was currently propped up on a large, plush red cushion placed on the floor. Clutching at his trouser leg, Sam surveyed his surroundings and his jaw dropped.

He was in a room so large that he was certain his entire _house_ could have fitted comfortably inside. The ceiling was hidden in shadow; the tall ornate windows were covered in heavy-looking thick curtains. The carpet was a deep maroon, with intricate golden swirls bordering the edges. Before him was an enormous fireplace, in which a roaring fire was blazing happily. He was sat on a tall, grand red chair, the arms of which were covered in soft cushion. The areas both behind and beneath him were the most comfortable he had ever felt; if it wasn't for the fact his senses were now on hyper-alert, he was certain he would have drifted off again easily.

Because he'd only ever heard of _one_ thing living so richly so deep in the woods, he knew that he absolutely had to get out of its way, pronto. He wasn't certain how long he'd been out for, but maybe it was daylight by now; with the heavy curtains in place it was impossible to tell. That meant the wolves would skulk a little further back, and eventually he'd find another human being. Besides, if the horse had managed to make it back home, his father and Dean would already be searching for him. All he had to do was get back so that he was close enough to be found.

Mind made up, Sam eased his leg off the cushion slowly and moved to stand. It was then that he discovered a snag with his plan. The moment he moved the limb an inch, horrendous pain shot across his entire body, making him cry out and utterly freeze all movement. Sam sagged against the back of the chair, fear now flooding him. He was trapped here until he got medical attention, or was found by someone else.

He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, someone was standing just in front of his chair. _Someone_ _with wings_. For a moment they just stared at one another, then the thing raised its arm towards Sam, and the movement shook him from his petrified state. With a shout of terror, he tried to move backwards, keeping his leg supported. But, due to the sweatiness of his palms, his trouser leg slipped through his grasp and his heel collided with the carpeted floor. The resulting pain was enough to make him black out again, but he could have sworn he heard the thing call his name in alarm just before he did.

* * *

When he came to for the second time, Sam found himself in an utterly different location to the first. The tiny room around him was doused in shadow; the only light came from a flickering candle on a window sill just above where he lay, propped up against the hard stone wall. The floor beneath him was also stone and freezing cold, but he noticed with a pang of utter bafflement that his bad leg was still supported by the same cushion as before, and that a blanket was draped over his lap. Running the length of the room were iron bars, just like a prison cell.

Heart pounding, Sam scrubbed a hand down his face. He was now well and truly a prisoner of the beast, and God only knew what it was going to do to him. He was already weakened and injured; what was the damn thing waiting for? Did it know about his brother and father, and was using him as bait to draw them in, knowing he would be utterly powerless to stop it? He couldn't let that happen. But there was no way he'd be able to make it through the forest and come out the other side alive in his condition, and that was _after_ he managed to escape this thing's clutches.

Sam shifted slightly, and the movement dislodged something in his trouser pocket. It landed with a clatter, drawing his attention immediately. It was the strange device Dean had given him just yesterday during their talk in the basement. Curiosity overtaking blinding fear for a moment, Sam scooped it up and examined it carefully. It was small and rectangular, with a glass screen and smaller rectangles with numbers imprinted upon their surfaces.

It was as Sam began to raise it to his face for closer inspection that it began to screech shrilly and vibrate in his hand, causing him to jump out of his skin and drop it. It landed with a second clang on the stone, where it lay shrieking and buzzing incessantly. Terrified of what would happen to him if the beast overheard such a racket, Sam swooped it back into his hands and began jabbing at each numbered rectangle in turn, desperate for the device to cease its piercing noise.

He had just pressed experimentally on a green button when the racket suddenly stopped. Sam sat in the abrupt silence, ears straining for the slightest noise that signalled the beast approaching. And in those moments of silence, he heard his brother's voice. Instinctively, Sam flew around to stare at the staircase through the bars at the other end of the adjoining room, and in doing so put too much strain on his leg. He groaned in response to the pain, and that was when he heard Dean again.

"_Sammy_?! What the hell's wrong?!"

"Dean?" Sam whispered, a hint of frustration in his tone. It sounded as if his brother was shouting, but he sounded so far away. He wouldn't have sounded that distant if he were standing on the staircase, surely. "Is this a trick, beast?"

"..Beast? Sam, what the _fuck_ is going on?"

"Dean, where _are_ you?"

"What? Oh, for the love of.. The _phone_, you moron! In your hands!"

Sam's head whipped back to stare at the device currently nestled in his palms, and his eyes widened as he murmured, "Dean..?"

"Where are you?" Dean's voice repeated.

"I.. In the beast's hideout. My leg; it's broken." After Sam quickly relayed everything he could remember on how he'd ended up in his current predicament, he clutched the device even harder and whimpered, "Please hurry."

"Calm down, Sam." Dean's voice had gone rather hard. "I'm leaving now."

"Wait, what? No, Dean!" Sam yelped. "It's far too dangerous; the beast! It'll get you too! You need to find Dad and get him to bring a whole group of hunters with you, then -"

"Sam, don't worry. I can handle this, trust me. See you soon." This statement was quickly followed by a click, and then silence.

"Dean?" Nothing happened. "Dean, where'd you go?" Still nothing. "Dean?! DEAN!"

* * *

A couple of hours later, Dean was leading a majestic black horse through the iron gates, closing them with a gentle clank.

He had instinctively known something was wrong the moment Sam had set off earlier that evening. So he'd wandered into the village, phone in his hand, waiting for some kind of news, learning all he possibly could about the life he had supposedly led in this dimension. When the horse and empty carriage came hurtling back towards the house without their rider shortly after he'd returned, Dean had called Sam. Then he'd put the terrified animal back into the stable behind the house, found a second horse, and began following Sam's previous instructions.

For what felt like the hundredth time since he'd woken up in this bizarre world, Dean froze to the spot just beyond the gates, jaw slacking at what met his eyes in the growing light of the early morning.

A mountain range stood tall and intimidating to his right, dousing the entire place in heavy shadow. He and the horse were stood on a stone bridge, held high above a sheer drop into a shadow-drenched valley. Before him was a castle, huge, dark and looming, with several turrets and towers curving into the lightening sky. Cruel-looking stone gargoyles with fierce expressions leered at the edges of each rooftop. Every window was dark, except for one at the top of one of the turrets, where a gentle orange glow was flickering.

Careful not to pay too much attention to what was on either side of the bridge, Dean led the horse forward, hunter senses now flaring. Castiel might well be inside this castle, but he had no idea what else lurked inside. Every person he had spoken to about it seemed genuinely terrified of the place; that kind of fear had to have some sort of reasoning behind it, and he couldn't believe _Castiel_ was responsible. Dean might have felt a little more reassured if he'd had some proper weaponry on him, but he'd dropped his gun before he'd been angel-whammied, and could only find a silver knife at the house which was stuffed into his jeans pocket.

To his immense surprise, the oak double doors opened at the slightest push with a loud creak, revealing an enormous hall that ended in a flight of marble stairs. Dean closed the door behind them, told the horse to stay put, and hurried across the pitch black room, eyes peeled for the slightest movement and hand hovering over the concealed weapon. He quickly lost track of just how many stairs he'd climbed, or how many hallways he'd walked down before having to double back to find the next staircase up, or how many times he'd wandered into a dead end.

Finally, he'd stumbled into a winding staircase made entirely of stone, and saw the faintest glimmer of light from the top. Knife now in hand just in case, Dean hurried up the steep steps and burst into a small circular room. Directly opposite him in a tiny room cut off from him by thick metal bars, leant against the wall, was Sam. Despite this Sam not truly being his brother, Dean still felt a rush of relief and anger that he was locked up in such a place.

"Sam, are you alright?" Dean asked as he approached the cell.

All of a sudden, Sam's previously relieved eyes grew wide with terror and he pointed at a spot over Dean's shoulder. "_Run_!" He squeaked.

Before Dean could turn, he heard another voice; one he recognised and realised with a thump of his heart that he'd missed much more than he cared to admit. Because it was an acknowledgement from someone that he _knew_ was from his own timeline. "Hello, Dean."

Dean spun on his heel to greet Castiel in return and replacing the knife in one fluid motion, but the words got caught in his throat the moment he laid eyes on the angel. He was dressed as he always was in his holy tax accountant getup, right down to the tan trenchcoat flapping by his legs. His hair still stuck in the same gravity-defying peaks, his chin was still dusted with stubble and his eyes were still the same striking, dazzling blue that left Dean feeling as though he were being x-rayed.

But the wings sticking out from his back were a shocking new addition.

Dean knew the angel always had them; he _was_ an angel for fuck's sake. But they had always been hidden somewhere in a different dimension incomprehensible to the human eye. He'd only ever seen shadows of them before and that alone had been enough to leave him feeling stunned. Seeing them in the flesh was utterly awe-inspiring, and Dean felt his jaw slacken.

The wings were both strikingly beautiful and also slightly intimidating. When talking to Castiel, it was easy to forget just _what_ he was, if you could ignore the weird static buzzing air around him, which Dean always seemed to do. But seeing those very real wings flexing and shivering meant it was now impossible to forget that fact. The feathers were sleek and shiny, each one perfectly in line with the next. They were a wonderful glossy black; the exact same shade as the Impala. They curved in a graceful arch behind Castiel's back, framing the angel's skinny body.

"Wow," Dean managed to croak weakly.

Castiel's eyes strayed to his wings and he smiled, although it was mostly in his eyes. "It seems in this world you are able to see my wings." As he spoke he curled one of the feathery appendages around to his front, as if examining them himself.

"No shit, Cas." Dean muttered, unable to tear his eyes away. It wasn't until he heard Sam's squawk of shock from behind him that he remembered just why he was at the creepy old castle in the first place. Feeling a blush of humiliation heating his face and neck at being so easily distracted just by seeing Castiel's _wings_, he ground out, "What's going on, Cas? Why's Sammy locked up in here?"

Castiel's tiny smile slipped from his face to be replaced with a rather agitated expression. "I can explain -"

But Sam's howl of disbelief cut across whatever it was the angel had been about to say. "Dean, what on earth are you _doing_?! Don't stand there talking to it! _Run_!"

Dean couldn't help but feel a prickle of anger at Sam referring to Castiel as an 'it', but before he could voice it the angel spoke over him.

"Sam, please, I -" He began, reaching towards the cell. However, to Dean's utter bafflement, Sam shrunk away from the touch, clutching his broken leg and glaring despite the green tinge that had begun to blossom in his skin.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"Sam, shut _up_!" Dean yelled and his brother was so shocked he immediately fell silent. Dean ignored the confused and hurt glint of Sam's eyes burning a hole in the back of his head as he turned back to Castiel. "What's going on?"

"I intended to heal Sam's leg but he, like many others, would not allow me near him. He intended to escape, even with his injuries, so I had no choice but to ensure that did not happen. I knew you could come, Dean."

"You knew I was here. Why didn't you come when I called you?"

A flash of guilt strayed into Castiel's gaze. "I was.. Advised against that. You have seen how these humans react to my presence. Allow me to demonstrate." And he swept past Dean, arm extending towards Sam. But the moment the angel got closer, Sam whimpered and backed away even further. Castiel instantly froze, and then turned back to Dean, puppy eyes notched up to the highest setting.

"Sam, stop being a moron!" Dean snapped, flatly ignoring the way those eyes made his stomach churn. "Cas, just go and heal him for fuck's sake."

"What?" Sam squeaked. "No, Dean! What are you _doing_?! Don't let it touch me, Dean!"

At Dean's nod of approval, Castiel swept his hand to the side and the cell doors opened with a metallic screech. Sam tried to scramble away even more, but the space was too limited and the pain in his leg too great for him to go barely more than a few inches. Ignoring his screams of protest, Castiel bent down and placed his fingers against the leg and, in a matter of moments, the broken bone was healed. The angel then quickly retracted his arm and backed away fully, all the way past Dean and coming to a stop by the staircase while Sam lay frozen, speechless.

Satisfied, Dean turned to Castiel. "What's going on here, Cas? And what did you mean you were 'advised' not to answer me?"

"I am unsure as to why we are here, and what purpose it will serve. And Gabriel -"

Dean couldn't help it – he groaned loudly. "You gotta be kidding me, Cas. _Please_ tell me _he's_ not here. That's the _last_ thing I need."

A glint of humour appeared in Castiel's eyes. "My brother is not.. As you remember him. Gabriel, come here."

Before Dean could ask what _that_ meant, there was a faint pop from just above Castiel's shoulder. Dean's jaw dropped. The source of the noise was from Gabriel who had just appeared out of thin air, bronze-coloured wings flapping effortlessly behind him. He had the same stupid messy haircut, light brown and curly, same smug honey-coloured gaze, same cocky grin and even his clothes were the same colours that Dean was accustomed to seeing him dress in. In fact, everything about him was the same as the Gabriel he knew.. Except he was the size of Dean's foot.

"He actually _is_ pocket-size!" Dean was unable to hide the snort of laughter despite the situation.

Gabriel scowled, eyes flashing with anger before he turned to Castiel. "What did you want me to do, boss?"

"_'Boss'_?" Dean repeated, docking an eyebrow.

"Yes. It appears that whosever dropped me into this world deigned to give me what I desired in the last; control over the angelic war. However, with that power came fear so intense, it has left me severely lacking in company." And he gestured towards Sam, who, Dean was pleased to see, shuffled his feet guiltily and had to look away. "It has, however, given me control over my brothers and sisters. Gabriel, I wish for you to escort Sam home."

Sam jolted at that, and turned to Dean. "What about you?"

"I gotta stay here, Sam." Dean replied after catching Castiel's eye. "Think of something to tell Dad, alright?"

Instantly, fear began to swim into Sam's expression again. "No, Dean! You can't stay! It'll -"

"I told you, _stop being an idiot_. This is Cas. We can trust him; he's no monster. Go home."

When Sam shut his mouth and docked his head in defeat, Castiel spoke up. "Gabriel."

Pixie-Gabriel gave a mock salute. "Oui, mon capitaine!" He said, then fluttered down to Sam's arm and grabbed his sleeve. "Come on, Samsquatch!" And in the blink of an eye and a faint popping sound, they were gone.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I am so, so sorry that it's taken this long to get this next chapter up, but I have three massive deadlines all for around the same time - seriously, within three or four days of each other - plus an exam AND prep for next year. I'll try my hardest to get the next chapter up quicker than this one, and once again I'm sorry :(

Massive thanks to everyone who's faved, followed or commented so far :) You guys are awesome :D


	9. Chapter 9

Gabriel followed along behind Balthazar in total silence, staring around at his new surroundings without trying to look too surprised. Castiel had joined them shortly after they'd left the shoreline, solemn and serious as ever. He kept glancing back at his brother, his brow creased with worry. It would look slightly odd if he caught Gabriel reacting to everything that he was supposed to know as if it were his first time seeing it. But after they swam out from behind a cluster of large rocks a long while later, it was impossible not to be utterly stunned at the sight that met his eyes.

Raised slightly off the sandy ocean floor was a spectacular structure. Made of up twisting turrets and grand archways, it spread up towards the surface of the water, lit up by a beautiful golden glow that seemed to resonate from within. Schools of fish swam in their tightly-knit groups through the gaps between the buildings, and in every direction were Gabriel's brothers and sisters, each with tails of every colour.

He came to a sudden stop, eyes wide and mouth partially open. Returning to Heaven with Castiel had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do in his long existence, on the same par with leaving in the first place. At the time he had felt a strange combination of crushing guilt and shame, with remorse and fear thrown into the mix as well. But there had also been hope and a faith he'd thought he'd never find again, finally filling in the horrible chasm he'd had inside for centuries. And seeing this, it brought all of those emotions rushing back.

But there was something different here.

There was an invisible thrum of power everywhere around this place. Gabriel could feel it all around; in the water, in the air, in the very centre of his being. It signalled a presence; one he hadn't felt for so long, he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. His loyalty to his family had kept the memory of that power stored deep in his Grace, and its loss usually came back to him when thunder filled the skies. To feel it again in a crazy, messed-up alternative dimension was an extra slap to the face, and Gabriel silently vowed to skin the responsible angel for force-feeding him this horrible false hope.

Without a word, he continued to follow in Balthazar and Castiel's wake, anger now adding to the flood of emotion he was currently experiencing. They led him straight to a door-less chamber. It was massive, lined with tall stone pillars, each carved with intricate detail. Some of the sand lining the floor had been smoothed to resemble a path while the rest lay hidden beneath a carpet of brightly coloured plants, swaying in the gentle current. Straight ahead was an ornate throne carved from the same stone as the surrounding pillars and decorated with shells.

And sat there, looking rather surly, was a being that could only be Gabriel's and everything else's Father; God Himself. The sight made Gabriel freeze, all the air shocked from his lungs. His Father's vessel was a skinny-looking man, small in stature and build. His hair was short and dark, as was His beard. Blue eyes, several shades darker than Castiel's, stared hard at the approaching mermen, a frown on His face. In His hand was a tall golden trident, the ends of which sparkled in the glow of the room. The tail stretching from His waist down was royal blue in colour, with turquoise fins. Although His appearance was that of a scrawny bookworm, the power buzzing just beneath the Vessel's surface was proof enough.

"Gabriel," His Father called quietly, beckoning him forwards. He forced himself to move towards the call, but it was difficult. He'd always mocked Castiel in his fruitless search for their Father; had long since given Him up. But seeing Him in one form or another.. It stirred the pain of His betrayal, the loneliness they'd all suffered when He left, the hope that Gabriel still had kindled but hidden deep within once more, and the archangel kept his mouth closed to avoid blurting all of this out with immense difficulty.

All he managed was a very strained, very hoarse, "Father."

His Father gave a slight sigh, before piercing Gabriel's vessel with those dark eyes, looking far deeper than the flesh of his vessel. "I have warned you many times Gabriel, of the destructive will of humanity, have I not?"

He was obviously supposed to agree, so he nodded.

"And yet not only did you expose yourself and risk revealing our entire race, but you took two of your brothers with you." He paused, and Gabriel willed the sand beneath him to swallow him up. "Explain."

But Gabriel's throat wasn't working. He couldn't form words at all, could only shake his head. Luckily, Castiel came to his rescue. "Not all of humanity is that way, Father. I am sure Gabriel thought he was acting for the best when he saved -"

"And would the human have done the same for us? Do you not recall what happened to Lucifer or Michael? I will not lose another of my children to them." Came the sharp reply, and Castiel immediately closed his mouth again. At these words, Gabriel's chest constricted even further. What _had_ happened to his older brothers? Something told him he really did not want to find out. Instead, he hung his head and remained silent. He expected rage, the full Wrath of God, but instead all their Father had to add was, "Do not interact with humans again, Gabriel. I shall be very disappointed if I hear you have disobeyed me. You may leave."

* * *

"I'm telling you, Dean. _That's_ what happened." Sam insisted as he walked the beach, his alternative-reality-brother by his side. While he didn't much like the idea of conversing with this strange adaptation of his older brother, he needed to talk to _someone_ about what had happened the previous night. And Adam was definitely out. The last memory he had of Adam was the boy screaming at them through a locked door, and it was just plain creepy to talk to him like everything was normal. And as for his father.. It just wasn't going to happen.

They had all been anxious to know how Sam had managed to make it to the beach alive in that storm, but when Sam had explained it all to Dean – without letting on that he knew the archangel-come-merman – he'd responded sceptically.

"Do you really expect me to believe merpeople exist, and that one saved you last night? Come on Sam, what _really_ happened?"

"It's the truth." Sam spoke through gritted teeth. They'd been repeating themselves ever since leaving the castle, and Sam was starting to get _very_ sick of it.

"You got rescued by a mythical creature?"

"_Yes_."

There was a slight pause, and Sam had just begun to hope that Dean had started to hear the honesty in his voice and believe him.

"Fine then, don't tell me." Dean said with a roll of his eyes while Sam sighed in frustration and shook his head. "But don't think Dad's going to let it go that easily. And don't try and feed him the same crap about _mermaids_ either."

"_Merman_." Sam corrected with a scowl. "And for the last time, that's -"

"_-what happened_." Dean spoke over Sam in a mocking impersonation, earning him a bitchface which he sniggered at. "Okay, okay, so a merman rescued you. _Right_."

"You don't believe me, do you?" Sam grumbled, folding his arms.

"Oh, sure I do. Mermaids are real, and they're out there now, including the one who saved you." He pointed to the sea. "Yeah, dragons too. So watch out Samantha, I hear they steal princesses." And he walked away down the beach, cackling.

Sam watched him go, glaring at his quickly disappearing back, before turning to stare at the ocean. It was calm and sapphire blue, the blinding sunlight bouncing off its glass-like surface. All he could remember from being on the ship was being catapulted into the churning waves, hitting the water with an impact so hard the air was sucked from his lungs. Then there was nothing but icy cold and water in his mouth, and he couldn't find the surface to breathe, and he was certain he was going to die. He'd blacked out anyway, and the next thing he remembered was Gabriel's face on his chest, his voice in his ears.

He felt heat colour his cheeks and scowled at himself, shaking his head to clear the memory of Gabriel's skin on his. He had to find a way out of this place, not stand around daydreaming about the archangel. And speaking of him, just how was Sam supposed to come up with a solution while he was on land, and Gabriel who knew how deep under the sea?

Until he could come up with an idea of working around this particular problem, he'd try and find a way out for both of them. At least then, if he discovered an answer, he'd just have to find Gabriel once, and they'd escape. Besides, he wasn't sure _why_, but a distant bell was ringing in the back of his mind. It was almost as if he'd heard someone in a similar situation to this before, but he'd never heard about an honest-to-God merman before. It was just yet another mystery to add on top of everything else.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Arrggh. Guys, I'm so sorry this has taken so long to post. It's just been a nasty few weeks after my exam and it's been difficult to find time or incentive to write x_x But I'm back now, temporarily xD I'm going to Cyprus next week but I'll be taking my laptop with me so I'll try my best to write as much as I can to make up for the time I've been away.

I'm feeling kind of iffy about this chapter, like it didn't come out the way I wanted but I couldn't think of any other way of putting it. So I hope you guys enjoy this :)

A massive thank you to everyone who has faved, followed or reviewed so far :) You guys give me the drive to keep this going ^^

* * *

To say that Sam's world was shaken was an understatement.

One moment, he had been standing in one of the towers of the beast's castle with it and Dean with his brother spilling some gobbledegook about the beast being their friend, something they could _trust_. Then the next thing he knew, something the size of his hand with shimmery gold wings had grabbed him and within a moment or two he was slamming to the floor just outside his home with an impact so forceful it made his knees buckle.

As he sat on the ground shivering in the sudden blast of cold air, he began to work his way through the jumble of thoughts still jamming his brain. Dean was being enchanted by the beast. It was the only logical explanation. He'd been hunting for the thing since he was old enough to operate a weapon! And now he'd suddenly performed a complete turnaround by _protecting_ it? It didn't make sense. Magical manipulation was the only answer. Sam had to help him, but he couldn't do it alone. But the answer was obvious.

He had to show his father and their hunter friends where the thing's castle was, and they'd kill it for good.

Scrambling to his feet which were still rather unsteady, Sam hurried to the door of the cottage and wrenched it open, calling for his father. There was no response. He was clearly still in the village, probably the tavern discussing plans with the other hunters. Perfect. Sam slammed the door closed again and took off down the path to the village, his heart racing. Dean was in danger, he had to hurry. They had no idea what the beast was capable of, and seeing as it had already enchanted his strong-willed brother, there was no knowing what it would do next.

Despite his legs still feeling shaky and ready to give out on him, Sam made it to the village tavern in record time. He threw open the door, sweaty and shaking, calling once again for his father. There was a sudden silence inside at his rapid entrance and dishevelled appearance, before a loud scraping to his right drew his attention. And there was John Winchester, getting quickly to his feet and jogging over, looking alarmed.

"Sam! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be a few days, at least."

"No time to explain, Dad! We need to go save Dean! And we're going to need help; get Bobby and Rufus and -"

"Woah, woah, Sam! Calm down!" John instructed, gripping Sam's shoulders tightly and keeping him locked in place. "What's going on?"

"There's no _time_, Dad!" Sam said shrilly, throwing his arms wide. "Dean could be getting eaten _right now_!"

"Sam," John had now adopted his no-nonsense business tone as he steered his son into a chair and held him there. "What are you talking about? What's happened to Dean?"

"He's at the beast's castle!" Sam cried, his heart pounding even harder as he said the words. A few nearby onlookers promptly stopped their conversations to listen in, looking anxious. "He came to save me! I got attacked by wolves, and I fell and the horse bolted, so I ran and I found this gate and -"

"Sam, _breathe_." John said sharply, eyeing the nearby eavesdroppers.

"The beast captured me, and locked me up in a tower." Sam spoke less breathlessly now but kept the panic in his tone as he scrambled in his pockets for the peculiar device Dean had used to talk to him. "Dean spoke to me through this. And then he showed up and he took my place as the beast's captive!"

John took the object from his son's hands, and examined it with a frown. "What _is_ this?"

Sam spluttered for a moment, before shrieking, "_That's_ your concern?! Dean is a captive of the _beast_! Didn't you notice he wasn't at home?!"

"Sam, calm down." John said, sliding the device into his pocket. "I haven't gone home yet. Dean's a big boy; he can handle a couple of nights alone." He paused to shrug, and then ploughed on. "I think you must have hit your head when you fell."

"I did _not_!" Sam cried indignantly. "I broke my leg, yes, but -"

"It looks perfectly fine to me, son."

"Because that thing _healed_ it! But it's _got Dean_, Dad! We have to rescue him!"

"Sam, if you were really taken prisoner by that thing, it wouldn't have just let you go." John said, trying to keep his voice level. It seemed that the other locals agreed, because they were picking up their own private talks once more and paying them no more attention. "It wouldn't have healed your leg, either. It would have left you for the wolves, or killed you itself. And how did you find your way back here, if you were that deep in the forest?"

"It got a pixie to zap me home, but -"

John seemed to have had enough. With a very final edge to his tone, he clapped a hand to Sam's shoulders. "Go home and rest, Sam. You've had a fright and a knock on the head. Sleep and this will all be a bad dream. I'll find Dean later and tell him this so you don't have to."

"_No_, Dad!" Sam shouted. "That thing has him and if we don't hurry he'll -"

"Go home and rest, Sam. That's an order."

And without another word, John moved back into the corner he'd been sitting in, shaking his head. Sam sat there, dumbstruck for a moment or two, before leaping to his feet and leaving with a slam of the door. It had begun snowing since he'd been inside, fat white flakes drifting lazily from the dark clouds above, making him shiver. He'd been running on nothing but adrenalin since his return, and now that his only hope had failed him, he felt empty and cold. There was only one thing he could do; wait for John to come home and then he'd see for _himself_ that Dean was missing.

But Dean could already be dead by then.

Waiting for John wasn't an option, and if the villagers' reactions in the tavern were anything to go by, nobody else would believe a word he said until it was already too late. Sam couldn't just sit there and wait for the beast to kill his brother. He knew how to get back to the castle, sort of. And he'd had a little weapons training, he was just a bit rusty. And it wasn't the dead of night this time. That settled it.

If John wasn't going to listen to him, he was going to get Dean back himself.

* * *

"So Gingantor's _really_ your brother?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"He's cute. What the hell happened with you?"

"Ha. Funny. I think I just cracked a rib."

"I'll have you know I'm hilarious."

"Let me know when you start."

Dean trailed after Castiel down yet another shadowy passage, Gabriel hovering upside-down just above his shoulder. He never thought it possible to encounter an entity that he desired to punch more than the jackass archangel from his own timeline, but that was before he'd met the miniature version. It seemed that what this Gabriel lacked in stature, he more than made up for in ability to drive Dean to the brink of insanity. The hunter had even found himself wishing to have the original back. At least that Gabriel dropped by for a few minutes at a time; he couldn't seem to shake this one.

"Why are you following me anyway?" He growled, turning to glare at the now grinning archangel.

Flipping himself the right way up, Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and the grin turned smug. "I gotta make sure the boss is safe, don't I? Kinda my job, don't ya think?"

"You think I'm gonna hurt Cas?" Dean asked, bristling.

"I think I can't afford to take chances. Considering how you come from a village that wants all of our heads on spikes."

"What?"

The archangel scoffed and opened his mouth but he was cut across by Castiel. "That is enough, Gabriel. You are dismissed. Dean is no threat to any of us." He turned, amused glint in his blue eyes. "Do not pretend you are not staying by his side just because you can see that your presence causes him frustration."

Gabriel grinned, hands behind his head. "You caught me, boss."

With a sharp popping noise, he had gone. Dean scowled at the empty air he had previously been occupying, and shook his head. "Somehow he's worse than the _real_ Gabriel. How is that even fucking possible?"

"Apart from the obvious height difference and adherence to my every command, he does not differ that much from the real Gabriel." Castiel replied, turning once again and continuing down the corridor. "He still delights in mayhem and havoc."

"Thanks. That's reassuring."

"I fail to see how that news brings you comfort, Dean."

The hunter sighed. "I can't believe we've known each other for this long without you picking up sarcasm." He shook his head in disbelief and caught sight of the worn and peeling wallpaper as he did so. This part of the castle seemed so much more worn down than the rest, not helped by the severe lack of light dousing everything in shadows. "Where are going anyway, Cas?"

"I must show you something. It may be a clue regarding our current predicament, but I am unsure of how to interpret it."

Oh, joy. Research. As if Dean didn't have enough to deal with as it was, now Castiel was expecting him to brainstorm? This day just kept getting better and better. Not voicing his true feelings other than a heartily disinterested groan, Dean continued to follow Castiel down the long hallway, their footsteps making dull, echoing thuds as they hit the marbled surface.

Now without Gabriel buzzing in his ear, Dean no longer had any distractions keeping him from staring at Castiel's wings and regardless of how much he wanted to, he couldn't tear his eyes away. They were held strong and proud, sleek and shiny, obviously cared for well. Just like the angel himself, they were ramrod straight as if he were standing to attention, everything about him screaming '_Soldier_'. But there was an odd flutter in the feathers every now and again, almost as if Castiel was self-conscious about his wings' newfound attention.

As soon as this thought entered his head, Dean forced his attention elsewhere; anywhere but at the feathery appendages just in front of him. It was probably as bizarre an experience for Castiel as it was for Dean to have the wings permanently on show; he was used to having them stashed away somewhere unreachable for humans. Dean wasn't _supposed_ to be seeing them. Just like he wasn't supposed to teach Castiel to disobey, to fall. Maybe his wings were the last piece of solace Castiel had, the last bit of his true angelic self that Dean hadn't yet managed to taint. But now that too had been stolen from the angel against his will. The least Dean could do was save on his discomfort by not ogling them.

Castiel came to an abrupt halt and Dean was so busy looking anywhere but his wings that he almost walked right into him. They'd come to a set of double doors, deep brown in colour. On the two halves where the doors met was a lump of bronze metal, carved into a horned monster wearing a fierce expression. Castiel took hold of one of the beast's horns and twisted it, the door swinging open and showing the room inside.

There wasn't much inside, despite the large space beyond. The carpet was threadbare and tatty, just like everything else in the castle. Drapes heavy and thick with dust lay against the wall or spread across the floor, their rich colours long gone and covered in holes. The room looked as if it had been used as a dumping ground for broken furniture; there were chairs with legs missing, ruined tapestries and statues with broken chunks, and a table that had been smashed in half. At the very end of the room were a set of stone steps leading to a balcony separated from the room by a glass door, several panes of which were missing. The room was bitterly cold as the wind blew in through the holes, bringing several flakes of snow along with it.

On the slightly raised platform just before the door was a small table. It was the only piece of furniture in the room that wasn't broken in any way. On it rested something long and flat which Dean couldn't identify from his space in the doorway, and a glass jar. Inside, if he wasn't mistaken, was a rose. It stood upright and elegant, its petals red and delicate-looking. The flower was omitting a strange but gentle red glow, and it was towards this that Castiel gravitated. Feeling a little apprehensive about the _glowing fucking flower_, Dean followed.

"What the hell is _that_?" He asked once they were both stood around the table. Upon closer inspection, the flat object looked to be an ornately decorated mirror, its face reflecting the dark ceiling above, and into which were carved several delicate swirls. But Dean's attention was fixed to the jar and its odd inhabitant.

"I was hoping you would be able to inform me as to its meaning." Castiel replied, placing a hand upon the jar. "As for its function, I have been reliably informed that it is the key to a curse."

The word struck Dean like a bolt of lightning and he backed away. "And just _why_ are you keeping a _cursed flower_?"

"Because it is linked to me, Dean. I am the one who is cursed. If it is destroyed, I will die."

"What are you talking about? How have you been cursed? You're an angel." Dean said, utterly nonplussed and choosing to ignore the unpleasant lurch in his gut at Castiel's dark words. "I thought stuff like this wouldn't affect you."

Castiel smiled, a slight upwards tilt in the corner of his mouth. "Nevertheless, it has happened. Zachariah explained -"

"Wait, _seriously_? You take everything that douchebag says as the gospel truth?"

"None of my brothers and sisters are capable of lying to me in this world. It appears that it is entirely true that this rose signifies I must experience love and be loved in return before the petals fall, or the outcome shall be the same; I will die."

Dean was entirely speechless. Then, unable to help it, he scoffed in disbelief. "You're joking, right?"

"As you have pointed out many times to me, I do not understand the concept of what is amusing and what is not. I am bound to this castle, and to this form, until the curse has been lifted."

"Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do about it? I mean, we're stuck with this until we break out of here, right?" When the angel nodded, Dean continued. "Okay, so we just gotta focus on getting out of this world. We don't even _think_ about this shit, because I'm sorry Cas, but I will _not_ be the one to explain the love crap to you. That's more Sammy's gig."

Another almost-smile. "I understand. I just wondered if you had any light to share on this development. That's all."

"Not happening." Dean shook his head and ignoring the continuing clenching of his stomach at the idea of Castiel dying because of him. Again. To dispel the unwanted images that thought path conjured, he hastily changed the subject to the only other object on the table. "What the hell is that mirror doing there anyway? Is it cursed too?"

"Not at all. It shows the asker what they wish to see when the question is spoken. I used it to find you. That is when Gabriel informed me of the dangers of the local villagers, and how it would be safer to wait for you to find me."

Hesitantly, Dean picked it up and stared back at his own puzzled reflection. "You used this to find me?"

The angel nodded; a single bowing of his head. "I asked it where you were."

"Can we ask it who's responsible for this? Or how to get out of here? Or to find where Sammy is?"

"It seems the mirror's power is limited to this world only."

Dean sighed in frustration, when another version of Sam popped into his head. It wouldn't hurt to see how the kid was coping, would it? He'd had a shock to his system after all. The least Dean could do was check up on him. Feeling foolish, he cleared his throat and stared at his own reflection. "Show me Sam?" He said, trying not to think about how ridiculous he must have looked or sounded.

The moment he had opened his mouth, the mirror's rims began to glow with a faint green light, clashing with the soft red hue from the rose. Then slowly, as if a mist was caught beneath its surface, his reflection disappeared. It was quickly replaced with another image, and at first Dean thought something had gone wrong because there was nothing but startling white. Then it became clear; Dean was looking at an area of the woods but it was unrecognisable because of the blizzard currently raging outside.

And there in the thick of it all was Sam. He was bundled up in a cloak, but it offered little to no protection against the horrible conditions outside. He was knee-deep in a drift of snow, pushing his way through, arms shielded against the onslaught brought on by the icy wind. His eyes were tiny slits in his face, his cheeks bright red and rosy, lips tinted blue from cold. As Dean watched, horrified, he stumbled and nearly fell; only clinging to a nearby tree seemed to keep him upright. But he was sagging, panting for breath, and it looked to Dean like he lacked the strength to pull himself right again.

"Cas, he's in trouble! I -" Dean began, throwing his head up to show the alarming picture to the angel, but he had gone. Dean whirled around, but Castiel was nowhere to be seen. "Cas? _Cas_?!"

Keeping the mirror clutched in his hands, Dean hurried out of the room and saw the passageway outside every bit as deserted as the room he had just left. Cursing under his breath, Dean ran back the way he'd come; down the hall and several staircases, heading for the front doors. Sam was out there somewhere lost in the blizzard and, true brother or just a weird figment of this world's imagination, it was engrained into every nerve Dean possessed to save him.

After casting a brief look at the mirror – the kid was trudging stubbornly through the snow that now reached his thighs but no doubt now, he was bent almost double and struggling – Dean was leaping down the marble steps the doors in sight when something tiny and golden just _appeared_ right in front of his face, causing him to swerve to a stop. Gabriel hovered at his eye line, smirking.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?!" Dean spat, shoving the mirror inside his jacket pocket. "I gotta go get Sam!"

"You cannot leave, Dean. You will only be endangering yourself." A grim voice behind Dean called, and he whirled around to see Castiel hurrying down the steps, miniature versions of Balthazar, Rachel, Anna and Uriel hovering around him like multi-coloured fireflies. "Gabriel, Balthazar, Rachel and myself shall go and fetch him, do not worry. We are angels, after all. The cold will not affect us as it does you and Sam. Uriel and Anael will remain to ensure you stay here."

"Like hell I will!" Dean growled as the angel moved past him. He tried to follow but his jacket was being held fast by the tiny angels ordered to keep him in place. He tried to shake them off but their strength, it seemed, was not limited by their size. "Cas, get them off me!" He _had_ to help find Sam; it was _natural_ for him to need to look out for the kid. And it was _his_ fault he was out in the snow in the first place.

"When I return, Dean."

"Yeah, sit tight Deano and let the grown-ups do their jobs." Gabriel called over his shoulder as the front doors closed behind him. The second they had closed completely, both angels dropped their grips on him and fluttered in front of him instead.

"Just do you know, mud monkey, I'd quite happily allow you into that storm to your death." Uriel said stonily, eyeing Dean with pure loathing.

Dean scowled at him. "It's a relief to know some things don't change; you're just as big of a dick angel in this world as you are in mine."

And with that, an idea occurred to him. They may have been the size of his hand, but they were still angels at their core. Which meant they still had the same weaknesses, right? And while the idea of him finding holy oil somewhere in this castle was laughable, there was another thing he could do that could rid him of his pesky guards so that he could join the hunt for Sam.

Without a word, he turned and walked a little way back up the marble stairs, pulling the knife from his pocket as he did so to bite into his other palm. "But you know what, Uriel?" He spoke harshly, ignoring the metallic sting of the knife in his hand, "You're every bit as stupid as your other form, too."

And as he turned, he slapped his hand onto the stone wall. Anna and Uriel only had time to glimpse the red stain of his smeared blood of a very shoddily drawn angel banishing sigil before they were both wrenched from the room with identical shrieks. Muttering a few choice words about Uriel under his breath, Dean returned the knife to his pocket and pulled the mirror out again as he vaulted the stairs, sprinted the length of the hall and burst out through the castle doors into the blizzard outside.

"Show me Sam!" He ordered. The same green light lit up the mirror's edges and Dean's reflection disappeared to be replaced with Sam, now lying on his front, half submerged in the snow, eyes closed. Castiel and his miniature entourage were nowhere to be seen. "_Shit_!"

Dean shoved his way through the gates, ignoring the icy bite of the wind and the metal against his hands. He studied the mirror as he plunged into the trees, looking desperately for any sort of familiar sign that would tell him where Sam was. He saw nothing recognisable, however, and swore as he replaced the mirror in his pocket. He could only hope that Sam had tried to take the same path he'd used to get to the castle in the first place, the same one he'd relayed to Dean, and that the snow hadn't been so thick that he'd wandered off course by accident.

While that might not have been a problem for Sam, it certainly was for Dean. The snow being whipped in every direction by the wind was thick and heavy; he could barely see a hand in front of his face let alone find a narrow path. But he had to try; he couldn't just sit at the castle, twiddling his thumbs and waiting. He climbed the bank, slipping and sliding, grabbing one of the trees at the top to haul himself up. He was in the generally right area, he knew. All he had to do was find the way through the trees back to the pathway, and hope that somewhere along it he'd run into Sam.

The trees were doing next to nothing to shield the forest floor from the snow; in fact it now came to halfway up Dean's shins. This made quick movement extremely difficult and Dean cursed himself for not grabbing the horse he'd arrived on. Its long legs would have coped better in this kind of weather than his currently were, he felt certain. But he couldn't go back now; with every passing moment Sam was getting weaker. So, gritting his teeth against the icy chill buffeting against him, Dean surged on past tree after snow-covered tree, whipping his head around left and right for any sign of life.

Then suddenly the trees stopped, and he found himself on a slightly raised bank, staring out at a frozen lake. The lake's iced surface was covered in a thick layer of snow, and the footprints of animals were dotted across it. Dean gave the edge of the lake a glance; it was a risk to try crossing the ice, yes, but if he took the time to go around, it might have disastrous consequences for Sam.

Clenching his fists in determination, Dean took the first tentative step onto the ice. His boot slipped a little, but it took his weight with only a slight creak. Steeling himself for what he was about to do, Dean took his other foot off the bank and took a step forwards, heart pounding in his ears. He didn't need the brains he was born with to know that this was a _really stupid fucking idea_, but he had to find Sam quickly. The ice beneath his boots seemed sturdy enough, and he chose to ignore the way the cracks were getting longer and louder with every step closer to the centre.

It was when he had almost reached the halfway point that his foot slipped on a patch of ice and he tumbled to one knee. Mouthing swear words in a mixture of panic and irritation, Dean watched as a spider web of cracks branched off from his body and spread further and further with every second. The cracking sounds filled the air like gunshots, and every time he moved the slightest muscle, it sent another crack wildly breaking away from the main bunch.

_Well, shit_.

"Dean?!"

The hunter whipped his head up and felt blissful warm relief spreading through his chest at the sight that greeted him. Across the lake on the opposite bank was Castiel, Sam hovering like a creepy doll beside him being held up by Gabriel, Balthazar and Rachel. It seemed that Castiel had at least partially healed him because he was conscious and staring in horror at his brother knelt in the middle of a frozen lake.

Dean opened his mouth to reassure both him and Castiel when a deafening crack robbed him of his voice, and the ice beneath him jolted horribly. He just about had time to glance in dread at the breaking ice beneath him, let alone move out the way. The next moment it gave way completely, plunging him into the freezing water, Castiel's yell the last thing he heard before the deafening silence under the water.

The moment Dean went under, the only thing thudding through his mind was _get to the fucking surface_. But the lake beneath the ice was dark and murky, and the snow was successfully blotting out any light from above. The momentum of his fall and the current had dragged him away from the hole in which he had fallen, and no matter which way he spun, he just couldn't see it. There was just shadow and dull white above his head, the rush of bubbles as he continued to spin hopelessly in his ears, glacial water filling his mouth.

The cold felt like it was _inside_ his body, stabbing away in his chest and at his lungs, numbing his arms and legs. It was fogging his brain, and already he could feel the edges of his mind becoming hazy. He tried to kick his legs, tried to _move_, but the cold was affecting his muscles; he could hardly move. His chest was burning, desperate for oxygen. He couldn't breathe. He was going to drown here in this icy lake, in a fucked up alternative universe.

But then, just before he blacked out completely, he heard a dull crash from behind him before two strong arms wrapped around his torso, hoisting him backwards. And he knew that shade of tan _anywhere_.

* * *

Gabriel, Balthazar and Rachel wasted no time. The second Castiel had leapt through the ice after Dean, ignoring Sam's weakened protests they had flown back to the castle and set up a roaring fire before placing him in front of it. Then, just as they had been ordered when they'd first found the kid half frozen, they all stayed by his side to keep him warm and partly to ensure he stayed put.

Castiel arrived seconds later, propping up an unconscious Dean, both dripping puddles of water on the carpeted floor. Keeping the hunter close to his furnace-like warmth, Castiel settled down next to Sam, Dean slumped against his shoulder. As Sam watched, he pressed a gentle hand across Dean's forehead. Within moments, his shivers had died down and colour began to return to his face, and his clothes even began to dry out. There was no attempt to harm Dean at all, as there had been no hesitation in the angel when saving both of their lives.

Eyes fixed on the floor Sam spoke, his voice weak and croaked. "I'm sorry."

Castiel, too fixated on Dean, didn't seem to hear him. But by his knee, Gabriel tipped his head back. "What's that, Gigantor?"

Sam turned his gaze to the tiny archangel instead. "I thought you were all monsters. I was wrong. And I'm sorry."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. You just heard those stories or saw our wings and jumped to a conclusion?" Upon seeing Sam's guilty cringe, both his gaze and tone softened. "Good thing your brother's got a bit more sense, isn't it? But don't you _ever_ tell him I said that. He'd never let me forget it."

Sam felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "Your secret's safe with me."

Gabriel tipped his head back once more and grinned, before they both lapsed into silence, Sam returning to watching Dean and Castiel. The hunter was now breathing completely peacefully and heavily as if fast asleep, head still resting on Castiel's shoulder. All his life, Sam had been told that the creature before him was dangerous and lethal, but he saw nothing in the winged being before him. If he truly was the monster Sam had believed him to be, he would have left Sam to the wolves, not healed his broken leg and then had him safely transported home. He would have left Sam to freeze to death in the snow, not saved his life again. He would have left Dean to drown in that lake, not dived in to save him without a moment's hesitation.

Dean was right. This so-called 'beast', this _Castiel_, was no monster and Dean was in absolutely no danger from him whatsoever.

* * *

An hour or so later, Sam was once again landing in the yard outside his home, Gabriel clinging to his arm. Sam had insisted on helping the angels carry Dean upstairs, during which Sam promised to do all he could to ensure that their master's castle stayed hidden from the village's hunters. With a smirk, Gabriel now waved at him before disappearing into the snowy night with a slight pop.

Unbeknownst to Sam, his and Gabriel's reappearance was being closely watched. Hidden in the dark shadow of the forest, John Winchester was gripping the strange device he'd taken off Sam earlier that day, now realising that his son's tale hadn't been quite so far-fetched after all.


	11. Chapter 11

Bobby couldn't resist bringing a hand to rub his temples in irritation as he read the newest instalment of Dean and Castiel's story. It seemed that, regardless of whether or not the phoney version of Sam was _his_ Sam, he'd risk life and limb to save him. And for every inch Dean's unwavering loyalty was touching, his behaviour was sending him barrelling towards an early grave _yet again_.

"Idjit." He murmured to himself, sitting back in his chair and frowning deeply at the book.

"I'll need you to be a little more specific there, darling. You could be referring to either of your boys with that proclamation."

"Welcome back, Crowley." Bobby replied, deadpan, not moving as the demon walked over from behind him and settled himself into the chair opposite. "Find anything of use?"

Crowley's wolfish grin widened marginally. "I'm close to a breakthrough. I can't find anything that gives away which angel is responsible, but I'm near to finding a spell that will extract them all."

The demon had been true to his promise of help. He had been the one to realise just what stories they were living, and had promised to keep his teasing to the barest minimum, although this was probably something to do with the fact that two of the victims in question could smite him without a second's hesitation Even Gabriel, Bobby felt, would struggle to find the demon's jokes funny after his experiences. Ever since though, Crowley had used his inner circle of demonic sources to find something powerful enough to successfully pull the Winchesters and their angels out of the book's clutches. He had also sent out feelers to track down the angel to blame for the whole mess, but so far on that front he was coming up empty.

"Good. The way Dean's going, he'll end up dead within a day or two." Bobby grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

At Crowley's raised eyebrow, the hunter slid the open book across the tabletop. The demon took it and read the chapter quickly, actually sniggering at the mention of the curse and shaking his head when Castiel took the dive under the ice.

"I suppose it's a relief to know angel boy never changes. The day Castiel abandons his precious Winchester is the day he gets rid of that monstrosity of a car."

Bobby grunted in agreement, before reaching across and snapping the book shut. "How quickly can you get that spell together?"

"Once I find all the ingredients, no time at all. Although," Crowley tapped the book's cover with his finger, "Maybe we should leave those two at it. After all, the beast needs his curse broken. He just needs his beauty to wake up and realise he's in _love_."

Bobby glared at Crowley who was smirking. "I've told you before; this isn't funny."

"Only in your opinion, Singer. For me, this is hilarious. And I fully intend to _never_ let Dean forget this."

* * *

The second he had been dismissed, Gabriel turned and swam out of the underwater palace as quickly as he could without bothering to wait for Castiel or Balthazar. He needed space, needed time to digest all of what had happened. He felt a strange mixture of emotion. He was angry and frustrated at his own helplessness; at how he would have no choice but to defy his Father's direct orders. He _had_ to seek Sam out, because they had to escape this place together. He liked the kid, he couldn't leave him here. On top of that, there was also deep and aching sorrow, doubled by the guilt he still felt at abandoning Heaven all those years ago.

Following the same path Balthazar had led him down earlier Gabriel fled, leaving behind him a trail of bubbles. He just needed to take some time away from everyone else, to just sit quietly and think about everything that had happened so far.

He was a merman, and so evidently was the whole of Heaven in this world. Sam was a human prince, and their two worlds were far from at peace with one another. According to his Father, he should have left Sam to die, because it was what Sam would have done if their places had been reversed. He also had no power here; whoever had put him in this world had enough strength to seal away his Grace, which made him pretty much useless. He had a makeshift sword at his hip and he knew perfectly well how to defend himself with it, but it came with a horrible vulnerability.

Essentially, he was screwed.

He didn't know a single thing about what was going on, or what had happened in the previous cases Sam and Dean had been looking into. He hadn't paid attention. He had no idea how his current predicament and the others were linked. Basically, he knew nothing. And down here at the bottom of the ocean, he was just killing time and twiddling his thumbs, waiting for Sam to come up with a resolution all by himself.

Yeah, not happening. He had to find a way of spending time with Sam so they could work this out together, but without having his Father or any of his brothers finding out. Maybe he could wait by the shoreline for Sam to come wandering, and they could discuss their situation there at a certain time each day? That seemed to be the only logical option as far as Gabriel was concerned.

He had just made up his mind to set off for the beach when he caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye. He glanced over his shoulder and saw with a feeling of dread nestling in his stomach that Castiel was swimming straight for him, looking anxious. He turned fully and forced a small grin onto his face, determined to get rid of the other merman as quickly as possible.

"Hey bro. Listen, sorry for the hasty exit."

Castiel didn't respond to Gabriel's words, just grabbed his wrist and made to turn. "We have to get out of here." He whispered urgently, his expression deadly serious.

"What? Why?" Gabriel's tone dropped, and he cast a wary eye around them.

"You are being followed. We have to go, _now_."

Before Gabriel could say a word, two mermaids emerged from behind a cluster of nearby rocks and approached. They both had long dark curls that floated in the water behind their heads like creepy halos. They both had deep brown eyes that held identical, malicious glints. As he had noticed with his sisters back at the palace, they both wore shells over their chests; one a deep red and the other violet. Their tails were pitch black and sooty-looking. As soon as they appeared, Castiel's grip on his arm tightened. His eyes were blazing, and he was scowling deeply.

"What do you want?" He snarled ferociously before either of them could even open their mouths.

The mermaid on the right raised her eyebrows and smirked as she looked him up and down. "Daddy wasn't too good at teaching you manners, was he?"

Her friend chuckled as Castiel glowered at them. "We're not here for you, junior. Get out of here."

"That means you're here for me then, hm?" Gabriel asked coldly.

"Ooh, he's a sharp one." The first spoke without taking her eyes off Castiel. "I think I prefer the strong, silent type, though."

"Who are you?"

The mermaid on the left smiled, but there was no warmth in it. Her friend continued to stare at Castiel as if he were a piece of meat; he was returning her look with what Gabriel had dubbed his 'smiting face'. "My name is Ruby. This is Meg. Our employer wants to make you an offer."

"Your employer?" Gabriel repeated, ignoring the way Castiel's fingers had tensed at these words. "What's the occasion?"

Ruby shrugged. "He's observed your plight with the mortal prince for a while now, Gabriel. He wishes to help."

"Out of the goodness of his heart, I imagine."

"Oh no, there's always a price. But he's very reasonable, I think you'll find."

"I'm sure." Gabriel's tone was derisive, but secretly he was thinking it through. This employer, whoever it was, could end up being the perfect answer to his problem. All he needed to do was spend some time with Sam; the kid was a genius. He'd have the answer in hours, probably. "Who is this good Samaritan, anyway?"

"Crowley. He wants to offer you a deal."

At this, Castiel stopped glaring at Meg and turned to Ruby instead. "The sea witch?! Never!"

Struggling to keep his poker face at hearing Castiel refer to Crowley as a witch, Gabriel kept eye contact on Ruby who only faltered a second to glare acidly at Castiel. "What sort of deal?"

Castiel gaped up at him. "Gabriel, you cannot be serious! Crowley is a dangerous, manipulative lying -"

"He's the only way you'll be with the prince you love, merman." Ruby interrupted in an icy tone.

Once again, Gabriel's composure was tested at her suggestion that he loved _Sam_, but he managed to bite back the snort of laughter that had threatened to escape. Castiel was still staring at him in dumbfounded silence, obviously amazed that he hadn't immediately told Crowley's lackeys where to stick their offer. Both Ruby and even Meg were now focusing all of their attention on him, waiting for his decision. And it really did seem like the best idea on the table. Hanging around by the beach on the off chance that Sam came wandering by was laughable in comparison.

"Alright. I'll do it."

"_What_?!" Castiel cried, now looking angry. "Gabriel, what about Father?! He specifically told you -"

"I don't have time to explain this right now!" Gabriel replied sharply. "I just need to see Sam, okay? Dad's never going to understand that, so I _can't_ listen to him! I need to take this deal, whatever it is!"

Ruby smiled coldly. "True. Leave your weapon here, though."

Obediently, Gabriel untied the seaweed belt from his hips and allowed it to sink to the sand below. Satisfied, Ruby and Meg turned and began to swim off in the direction Gabriel had originally been heading. He followed close behind, Castiel right beside him. No matter what choice phrases he hissed at the other merman, he refused to leave. Eventually Gabriel had to admit defeat. He half expected Ruby or Meg to insist that Castiel stay behind, but now that they had gotten Gabriel's agreement, they didn't seem to care. And judging by the looks Meg kept shooting Castiel over her shoulder, she didn't exactly want him leaving any time soon.

"You are making a grave mistake, Gabriel." Castiel hissed out of the corner of his mouth as they continued on, both pretending not to see the mermaid's continued flirtatious glances. "Dealings with the sea witch are problematic, and many have fallen prey to his tricks."

"Yeah, well, hopefully I've got more brains than the average visitor Crowley gets." Gabriel hissed back.

"Indeed." Castiel muttered in a tone that suggested he very much doubted it if the offered deal was even a consideration. Gabriel ignored him. The kid wouldn't understand even if he did try to explain his reasoning, so what was the point in arguing about it?

Finally, a bizarre looking structure appeared in front of them. It was balanced on several pillars of rock, beneath which was an inky blackness that seemed to stretch on forever. The structure itself was enormous and looked like it was built from the bony remains of a huge animal. The entrance was a skull with a gaping mouth, jagged fangs stretching from its ceiling and out of its floor. Beyond this were several turrets made of the creature's bones, and a strange pink light was shining dimly from within. Without hesitation, the four entered.

After swimming a short distance down had previously been the creature's throat, they found themselves at the entrance to a wide cavern, at which point Meg stopped Castiel and held him in place.

"You can stay here with me. We wouldn't want you to try anything heroic, would we?"

Castiel looked ready to argue but he caught Gabriel's eye, who shook his head. He seemed willing to fight back anyway for a moment or two, but eventually he retreated a little away from her and looked on from a distance. The cavern was filled with the pink light which appeared to be coming from a mounted stone basin in the very centre. The floor was mostly bare but with the occasional strand of slimy seaweed and shiny stone. Fixed to the far wall was a gigantic black shell, the opening of which faced them but was doused completely in shadow. It was this that Ruby approached.

"Sir, we have him. He's agreed to see you."

Gabriel honestly didn't know what to expect when he saw movement from within the shell. Maybe Crowley with a tail, which would have been weird enough for him. But what he saw as Crowley slid into sight made him crack several ribs as he tried desperately not to laugh. Because the King of Hell didn't just have a tail. His body from the chest down was black and leathery-looking, ending in eight thick tentacles, the underneath of which was a poisonous shade of purple complete with suction cups. Around his neck was a black string ending in a golden shell.

"Hello, lover boy." Crowley smirked.

Gabriel knew he was supposed to answer. He was supposed to greet Crowley in return. But all of his energy was currently invested in _not bursting out laughing_, so all he managed to do was nod his head. Luckily, this seemed to work because Crowley's grin grew and he continued.

"I'm sure my associates have explained the situation. I'm willing to make you an offer; perfectly fair and realistic. Everybody wins. Are you interested?"

"Wouldn't be here if I wasn't." Gabriel replied, finally regaining his composure. He'd woken up a couple of days ago with a tail, all his family had tails, why was he so shocked Crowley had been turned into half an octopus? Honestly, by now, he was fairly certain he'd be fine with seeing Bobby Singer as a _centaur_ or something equally bizarre.

Crowley smiled hungrily. "Good. Here are my terms. I'll give you three days as a human with your precious prince, and all I ask for in return is your voice." He then heard Meg clearing her throat somewhere behind him, and assumed that Castiel had made a move forwards at this.

Gabriel blinked. "My voice?"

"You got it. In order to stay that way forever, should you choose to, all you have to do is get prince charming to fall in love with you before the sun sets on the third day. And by that I mean he gives you the kiss of true love."

"And how _exactly_ is he supposed to do that if he is unable to speak?" Castiel couldn't seem to stop himself.

Crowley turned to the other merman and chuckled. "Don't underestimate _body language_."

Gabriel smirked. This deal was _exactly_ what he was looking for. He would be human – which would be exactly what he was now, minus the tail – and together he and Sam could start finding a way out of this mess. And even if it took longer than the allotted three days, they would have at least made _some_ sort of headway by his deadline. It wasn't like making Sam kiss him was essential; he didn't _need_ to be human for the rest of the time he spent in this world. It was perfect. He'd just need to mime and hope Sam was good at charades, that was all.

"And if I can't get Sam to fall in love with me?" Gabriel felt _ridiculous_ saying it, but he had no other choice. He had to play along with this whole façade, at least for the time being.

"If he doesn't fall in love with you by the end of the third day, you'll turn back into a merman and you'll belong to me. Forever." Crowley said with a nasty smile.

"_No_, Gabriel!"

But Gabriel was still smirking. _Yeah, I'll belong to you right up until Sammy works out how to bust us out of here_. "I'll do it."

With a snap of his fingers, Crowley was holding a roll of parchment and a quill. "This is the outline of our deal. All you have to do is sign it."

He thrust both into Gabriel's hands and, ignoring Castiel's continued protests from behind him, Gabriel hastily signed his name along the line at the bottom. The instant he had finished, both the parchment and quill vanished from his grasp with a faint pop. Crowley meanwhile was busy looming over the basin which was now glowing sickly green, mumbling words under his breath that Gabriel was unable to catch. Then suddenly, two ghostly looking arms made of green vapour flew up from inside the basin, stretching high towards the ceiling and then reaching towards him.

"Now, speak." Crowley ordered, bringing the shell from around his neck and pointing it towards Gabriel too.

"_Gabriel, stop_!"

"What, like this?" He asked, ignoring Castiel once again.

Crowley gave a harsh, mirthless laugh. "No, fool. I need the language of your _soul_. Nothing less will do."

Not knowing what else to do, Gabriel began to speak in Enochian, the language of his true heritage. That seemed to please Crowley, because he practically beamed and shouted orders to continue. Gabriel did so, watching as one of the arms extended so that it was right in front of him, before flying in through his open mouth. It was an extremely odd sensation, feeling the hand probing around inside his throat; made worse when he felt it _grab _something.

The next moment, the hand was removing itself once more, clutching a small ball of golden light. As was his natural instinct, Gabriel pressed his hands over his lips, eyes widening when he heard his voice coming from the light. The other ghostly hand came to close around it as they were both sucked backwards, vanishing into the shell that Crowley was still holding.

Without warning, a beam of white light shot out from the basin and wrapped itself around Gabriel, trapping him within a bubble. Then came intense heat, stabbing and burning at everything below his hips. He doubled up in pain, letting out a shout that nobody was able to hear, clenching his fists so hard his nails embedded themselves into his palms. Then came the oddest sensation Gabriel had ever experienced; like he was being split in half. He looked down at where there had previously been a tail. Now, kicking weakly in the bubble created by the light, were the familiar legs of his vessel.

Before he could form any sort of thought regarding this dramatic change, the bubble vanished from around him and he was left floating in the water. This then immediately created a problem. _He had lost his ability to breathe._

He signalled frantically to Castiel who shot forwards, grabbed him around the chest and dragged him towards the ceiling of the cavern where there was a hole, Crowley's laughter ringing in his ears. His chest was already burning and he could see spots appearing on the outline of his sight. Castiel propelled them upwards with speed so alarming, it made Gabriel's head spin. Finally, just as he feared he was going to pass out, he felt his head break the surface.

Gripping Castiel tightly and dragging in several gasps of air, he collapsed against the merman, hacking and coughing. He felt like utter _shit_. Every single bone in his body ached, his lungs felt like they were on fire and his throat was painfully dry. He tried to speak, tried to tell Castiel just what a crap-tastic idea this had turned out to be, but no sound came out. He swallowed and tried again, but nothing happened. And then he remembered. Sagging against his brother, he glanced around, dragging his sopping wet fringe out of his eyes. Just to their right was the same shore he'd dropped Sam off before.

"I am unsure what I will tell Father.." Castiel was saying as he helped Gabriel towards the beach, sounding both angry and worried. "He _specifically_ ordered you to _stay away_ from them, Gabriel.. And now you are _one_ of them.."

Gabriel responded by rolling his eyes and shaking his head, trying to drown out the rest of the merman's mumbled sentences. Once they reached a point where he could put his feet down and touch the ground, he removed his arms from around Castiel's neck and half dragged himself up the beach where he collapsed on the hot sand, breathing heavily. Castiel remained half-submerged in the water, chewing on his lip. With that expression and his shining blue eyes, he looked every inch like a puppy that had been left outside in the rain.

Gabriel's legs still felt shaky and unstable beneath him, but they supported his weight with only a little trembling as he stood. He trudged up the beach towards the cliff, looking for anything that could have washed up on the shore from the ship. He was in luck. Just in front of the stone cliff face he found a broken part of the mast, still with a large section of sail attached. He ripped it off and tied it around his completely naked body like a makeshift toga. It would do temporarily to stop him from being arrested for public indecency or something like that.

Castiel was still waiting when he ambled back down the sand, slipping every so often. He still looked torn between what his next action should be. Gabriel sat himself back down in front of his brother and pointed to the water behind him, then pressed a finger to his lips. Castiel looked ready to argue, but Gabriel glared and shook his head. _No, of course Dad shouldn't be told about this_. Castiel hesitated, then nodded. Gabriel smiled, pointed right at Castiel and then again to the ocean.

"What will you do, brother?" He asked, looking doubtful.

Gabriel jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the castle at the top of the cliff. _Find Sammy, of course. No sense wasting what little time I have, right?_ Castiel followed his thumb and gulped, looking nervous. Then something seemed to strengthen within him because he nodded.

"I understand. Good luck, Gabriel. If you are unable to earn Sam Winchester's love in your given time, I will do all that I can to ensure that Crowley does not find you." And then he turned and vanished back underneath the waves with a splash.

Rolling his eyes but smiling fondly, Gabriel got back to his feet and walked down the beach. He was certain he'd find somebody eventually, and then all he'd have to do was silently communicate that he wanted to see Prince Sam. But that was if he met anybody before he lost consciousness. His body still felt incredibly weak, and tugging the sail off the mast had robbed him of most of his energy. Already, his feet were beginning to drag, his throat and chest were still burning, and there wasn't a part of his body that didn't ache.

And then he heard it from just around the corner, hidden by the cliff.

"_Bones_! Come back here!"

Gabriel felt sweet, warm relief flood through him. Because he _knew_ that voice anywhere. He forced his body onwards and, using the stone wall of the cliff to keep himself upright, he managed to round the bend. The beach stretched out before him, an endless stretch of golden sand and beautiful blue waves. A wide stone pathway had been cut into the cliff face itself, leading directly from the palace above down onto the sand. Just in the distance, Gabriel could see a wooden pier to which several small boats were tied, bobbing in the calm water.

And there, halfway down the beach with a golden retriever, was the hulking figure of Sam Winchester. He was laughing as he threw a stick into the water and watched as the dog bounded after it, spraying water everywhere. Gabriel tried to call out for him before mentally slapping himself; he really had to remember important stuff like, you know, _lacking a voice_. Instead, he pushed himself off the cliff and walked down the beach a little, waving his arms in an attempt to catch Sam's eye. And considering how every one of his limbs felt like dead weights, he considered this quite an achievement.

But it ultimately came at a price. He had taken only a few steps when his knees buckled without warning and he fell to the sand. He tried to get back up but it seemed his body had reached its limit; it felt like he had become bolted to the floor. And of course he couldn't shout out to get Sam's attention. For the first time in a while, Gabriel felt a churn of anxiety in his stomach. There was the very real risk that Sam would leave the beach without glancing his way and seeing him, especially as he was partially hidden by large rock formations from the cliff. If that happened he would lose his chance, and given how weak he currently felt, he wouldn't be able to give chase. He had to get Sam's attention, _now_.

Looking around, Gabriel spotted a pastel pink shell right next to his leg. He scooped it up and threw it with as much strength as he could muster. It was frankly pathetic and didn't cover _half_ the distance between him and Sam, but it _did_ bounce off one of the nearby rocks. The sound was enough to catch Sam's attention and he turned, and the last thing Gabriel saw before he blacked out was Sam's jolt of surprise when their eyes met.

* * *

Crowley instantly knew something was wrong the moment he reappeared in Bobby's motel room.

Ever since the Winchesters and the angels had been sucked into that mysterious book, he had been a constant proverbial storm cloud. Despite how amusing the situations were, he hadn't cracked a single smile. Not the smallest one. And yet as the motel room materialised around him, Crowley could hear the unmistakeable sound of someone _sniggering_, albeit quietly.

Bobby was sat at the room's only table, the book open in front of him, as he always was whenever its enchantment lifted enough for them to view the next instalment. Except this time his shoulders were shaking ever so slightly. Although the movement was barely noticeable, it was in such stark contrast to the moody silence Crowley had grown accustomed to that he instantly spotted it. It was frankly unnerving. After so many times of seeing the hunter his grouchy self on every occasion he dropped by, the drastic change in character was a shock for the demon. He crossed the room in a few steps, watching Bobby carefully and smirking.

"Finally coming around to my point of view, darling?" He asked as he looked over the hunter's shoulder, curious to know what had happened now to provoke such a reaction.

The picture immediately captured his attention. What he saw was _not funny_, not in the _slightest_. It showed an underwater cave, in which Gabriel was signing a sheet of paper. And just in front of him was a grotesque version of Crowley with his legs replaced with the slimy tentacles of an octopus. He glared acidly at the offending page, suddenly filled with a newfound determination to find this angel and deep fry it, extra crispy.

Crowley only stopped glaring at the book when he noticed Bobby was angling his phone, snapping a picture of the illustration. The demon instantly made a snatch for the device but Bobby was too quick for him, stuffing it back into his pocket. Scowling, Crowley turned his glare on the old hunter instead, folding his arms over his chest after he had slammed the book shut.

"_Delete it_." He hissed.

"Only when you get rid of that ridiculous picture of me and you on yours." Bobby replied calmly.

Crowley paused, his glare only intensifying, before snapping a rather sulky, "No."

Bobby shrugged. "Then deal with the fact I have a picture of you looking like something straight out of a creepy Japanese porn movie."


End file.
